Demigods tales and Diaries
by ZerenaGrace
Summary: This is about the PJO & HoO short stories
1. Clariesse and The Insane Demigod

**(Okay, so I wanted to make this story about tales and diaries-but I wanted to do both sooo why not just put both together. By the way there are 3 parts.)**  
(Part 1)

Clarisse wiped the sweat off her brow, her feet pounding the tarmac in the sweltering desert heat. Just because she was visiting her Mum didn't mean that she could take a break from her training. In fact, she preferred the camp: at least there, her training involved her beating other people up and improved her skill at beating people up. Here it was just running, weights, push-ups, sit-ups, running, jumping, pull-ups, running, running and running. Nothing to hit.

But she couldn't stop training. So if she didn't have the comfortable weather-controlled environment of the camp to run five klicks in, she would run five klicks in the Arizona desert.

At forty-nine degrees (A/N 120 Fahrenheit).

She was the daughter of Ares. She could take this.

"Mary! Mary, where are you?" someone suddenly shouted, from far off the road.

Something about that voice caught Clarisse off-guard. It sounded so familiar…

Pain stabbed at her heart as she realised whose voice it sounded like.

 _Chris…_

She winced at the thought. Despite her ability to withstand physical injury, she still couldn't handle heartache.

She'd known him for so long. He'd been one of her closest friends, and…well, sometimes she'd feel like she wanted to be…more than friends. But she wasn't sure of her own feelings. She didn't want to take a chance. And so she wasn't able to work up the courage (a first) to tell him. And now he was gone. One of the enemy. She dreaded having to face him in the field of battle. Would he even hesitate? If he didn't, would she be able to fight him?

And even worse, she knew that, if she had told him, he may have said yes. And then he may not have switched sides. He may have stayed with the Olympians, with her.

She'd never imagined that there would come a day when something could be blamed on Clarisse La Rue's lack of courage.

But yet, she had just heard his voice calling from the desert, not far from the road. Part of her said it was probably one of those stupid monsters who mimicked voices (she couldn't be bothered to remember their names). But part of her told her that as long as there was a chance, she _had_ to take it.

Clarisse sighed as the latter part got the better of her. She veered off the road, jogging over the sand, towards the source of the voice.

(Part 2)

"Mary! Mary, come back! I've found a way out!"

As she drew closer to the source of the voice, she spotted him in the distance.

Clarisse swallowed, attempting to still the swarm of butterflies in her stomach, as a smile broke out on her face against her will.

It _was_ Chris.

She dashed towards him, barely able to contain her sudden uncharacteristic urge to throw her arms around him. Ugh, it made her feel so _weak_ and _girly_ , but at the same time, it somehow felt so _right_.

"CHRIS!" she cried.

Now that she was up close, she could observe him in greater detail. He was dressed in full battle armour, and his shoulders sagged under the weight. He was covered in dust and smelt like a dark, dank cave flooded with sweat. His hair was unkempt and his armour and clothes in disarray. He gripped his spear loosely in his right hand. He looked like he'd just been through a long fight, and yet he didn't have a single wound on his body.

"Mary! MARY, ANSWER ME!" he shouted, facing away from Clarisse. Apparently, he hadn't even noticed her.

"Chris?" her smile disappeared.

For a second, jealousy stabbed at her heart. Who was this 'Mary'? Someone he had fallen for? But she immediately felt angry at herself for feeling jealous. There were more urgent things to take care of. She'd always made fun of Aphrodite's children for their lack of prioritisation, putting love and beauty before all else. And now she had committed the same sin that she so often accused them of.

"Chris, it's me, Clarisse!" she tried to get his attention.

Chris grabbed her by the shoulders, a wild, unhinged light in his eyes.

"WHERE IS SHE? WHERE'S MARY?" he shook her violently.

Clarisse' first thought was to push his hands off her and deck him for his audacity, but she couldn't bring herself to do it to Chris, especially not while he was in this state.

Something was wrong. Very, _very_ wrong.

"Chris."

Her voice grew quiet and sad.

Chris turned away from her, and shouted towards the desert, "COME BACK, MARY! COME BACK!"

The boy's breath was ragged. His voice was hoarse.

"The son of Poseidon is gone! We don't need the string anymore! I found a way out! We're free! Free!"

Clarisse blinked.

 _Son of Poseidon?_

Anger began to well inside her, as it tended to do in response to most stimuli.

 _If that punk Percy had anything to do with this…_

But the rest of what he said didn't make any sense. Why was he talking about string? And what was he free from?

Clarisse looked around. They weren't very far from the city. If the mortals found him like this, they would institutionalise him. She needed to get him out of their sight, immediately.

But as she turned back to Chris, who was still raving madly at the desert, she was bombarded by all sorts of emotions she had never felt before. Emotions that children of Ares weren't supposed to have, like tenderness and pity. Gods, this boy drove her _crazy_. Instead of the sight of him filling her with an instinctive desire to punch him out, like the sight of most everybody did, she just wanted to sit beside him, to take care of him, and to nurse him back to health.

She pushed aside her confused feelings for the time being. Either way, Chris needed help.

"Come on, Chris," she said, as gently as she could, tugging at his arm.

Chris suddenly grabbed his head and wailed in pain.

"Mary…NO! Mary…dissolved…illusion…Luke…the red giant…" he moaned, still clutching his head.

Left with no choice, Clarisse could only drag Chris back to her house, while attempting to injure him as little as possible.

"The earth…cannot die…rises…again and again…" he continued mumbling, as he stumbled along, Clarisse pulling him towards her house by the hand.

If it had been anyone else who was in this pathetic state, Clarisse would simply have laughed with scornful contempt at his frailty. But now she only felt sorrow and sympathy for the broken son of Hermes.

 _What's wrong with me? What's going on?_

She wanted to pulverise Chris for making her feel like this, but at the same time she wanted nothing more than to give him a big hug.

She imagined herself beating up Percy, which proved wonderfully cathartic and managed to suppress her emotional turmoil for the time being. She couldn't afford to waste time freaking out over her feelings. She had to get Chris out of the way of the mortals, or there would be trouble.

But then she wondered, was she really trying to bring him home to stop the mortals from discovering him, or was it actually because she wanted to take care of him?

She released an involuntary growl of frustration.

 _How the Hades do the Aphrodite kids handle all these stupid emotions?_

She continued attacking the question for the rest of the way home, but without coming up with any answers.

(Part 3)

"I cut the string, Mary. I cut the string. But we didn't need it. I found a way out! Come here, Mary! I didn't even need the other string! It didn't even glow!"

Chris was smiling, but his smile was hollow. The light in his eyes was vacant. Clarisse couldn't explain it, but somehow, it hurt her to see him like this.

Clarisse's mother had left to buy groceries, so the two teenage demigods were alone at home. Clarisse led the madly babbling son of Hermes to the sofa, and lay him down on it.

"Come on, Mary! We're free! Free!" Chris continued, shouting to someone who wasn't there.

"Shh," Clarisse pressed a thick, clumsy finger to his lips. He was very feverish, and every bit of him that was exposed had been sunburnt. His lips were dry and cracked.

Chris seemed to relax as he sank into the sofa. His shoulders slackened, his muscles loosened up, and his eyes fell shut. He looked as though he hadn't slept for days.

She got to work, stripping his armour off (A/N Not like that). It was forty-nine degrees (A/N 120 Fahrenheit) out there. It was a miracle he hadn't died from a heat stroke yet. His clothes under his armour were soaked through with sweat. His feet were covered in blisters.

She remove the last piece of armour and cut off a piece of string that was, for some reason, tied in a tight knot around one of his fingers. His skin was cooler, and his face less flushed, but just barely.

"Stay here," she commanded him. Not that he was in much of a state to disobey.

"Mary…" he murmured, half-asleep.

Clarisse raced to her room to grab her flask of nectar, and dashed back to Chris's side. Fortunately, he hadn't gotten up and started wandering about while she was gone. She uncapped the flask and pressed its cool glass rim to his parched lips, pouring the godly liquid down his arid throat.

As she did this, she remembered another time, now seemingly so long ago and so far away, when he had been the one tending to her while she lay down, injured.

 _"Aaaargh!"_

 _Clarisse stumbled as she felt the familiar sensation of metal parting her flesh. One of the Apollo campers' arrows had struck her in a gap in her armour._

 _Clarisse cursed. Pain radiated from deep inside her. She had no idea how the shot had managed to penetrate so much, but the entire shaft was buried in her flesh._

 _She screamed vulgarities in the general direction from which the arrow had come, and heard the trees rustling, presumably agitated by the archer's flight._

 _She winced as she felt the arrow moving around inside her._

 _"Stupid archers…" she grumbled, clutching the fletching of the arrow._

 _She walked on, being careful not to disturb the arrow, trying to find some spot where she could rest and recuperate, and possibly remove it without causing too much damage._

 _Then out of the shadows jumped a pack of those sneaky blonde monkeys from the Athena cabin._

 _Clarisse growled and swore. Another one of their stupid 'tactics'. Kick 'em while they're down. She'd have creamed them in seconds if this was a fair fight._

 _They attacked her all at once. Although she was handicapped by the arrow wound, she managed to fend them off with her spear. But they kept jumping around and dodging. She couldn't land a solid hit on any of them. And the arrow wasn't getting any better._

 _Then someone burst out of the trees behind one of her assailants, and thwacked him on the back of his head with a spear shaft._

 _The others turned towards him, surprised. One swung his sword at him, but he deflected it with the tip of his spear and used the blade as a fulcrum, swinging his spear shaft into his face, then smacking him in the head again to make sure._

 _The last one, seeing he had no chance against the two of them, 'wisely' turned tail and fled._

 _Clarisse glared murderously at the interloper. She didn't recognise his face, but then again, she had never been particularly good at remembering people._

 _"I didn't need your help," she growled._

 _The boy had the audacity to smirk._

 _"Sure you didn't."_

 _She scowled, and instinctively swung her fist at him. But she was careless, and accidentally agitated the arrow. She winced in pain as it cut deeper into her flesh._

 _The light in his eyes turned to concern._

 _"Whoa, are you okay?"_

 _"I'm fine," she grunted._

 _Chris moved around her, and saw the fletching of the arrow protruding from her skin_

 _"You're not okay. There's an arrow stuck in you. It looks pretty bad."_

 _She glared at him again, and tried to sock him in the face. But this time, when she moved her arm, the arrow must've sliced through something important, because pain suddenly shot from the wound and didn't go away when she moved her arm back._

 _"Ack!" she gasped, stumbling._

 _"Whoa!" Chris caught her._

 _She leaned on his shoulder, adjusting herself to minimise the pain caused by the arrow._

 _"Come on, let's get you to the Big House."_

 _Ordinarily, she would've been enraged at herself for failing so miserably and needing to be bailed out by this random guy. But, taking a second look at him, she realised he was actually pretty good-looking. It was the first time a guy as handsome as him had paid this much attention to her. And, although she didn't want to admit it, it actually felt kinda good._

 _He helped her back to the Big House, and Argus laid her down in one of the rooms and removed the arrow, being careful not to damage anything else. Then Argus bandaged her up, and Chris got some ambrosia and spoon-fed her with it._

 _Finally, she swallowed her pride, and turned to him. He was smiling kindly at her._

 _"T…Thank you."_

 _She'd expected him to make a barbed reply about how she had tried to refuse his help, but instead, his smile just widened a tad, as he fed her another spoonful of ambrosia._

He was nicer to her than any of the other campers ever had been, even her siblings. From that point on, he'd been the closest thing she had to a friend, outside of her own cabin.

Clarisse watched as the nectar took effect. The blisters on his feet and the cracks in his skin where he had been particularly badly sunburnt faded, as did the redness where the sunburn was less severe.

She squeezed his arm gently, trying to gauge his temperature. He was still warmer than he was supposed to be, but he was cooling down.

His grip loosened, and his spear, which Clarisse only just noticed he was still holding, clattered to the ground.

She was suddenly reminded of another time Chris had helped her.

 _"AAAAARGH! I'm going to KILL those punks!"_

 _The Stolls had 'visited' the Ares cabin again. No doubt as payback for their ignominious defeat at Ares' hands during yesterday's capture-the-flag. The casualties this time: a whole bunch of things from everyone, and some of Clarisse' favourite rock CDs. Yeah, sure, she would've beaten up the punks even if they hadn't touched her stuff. But this made it personal._

 _She reached out to grab her spear…_

 _…_ _and an electric jolt shot up her arm._

 _She yelled some rather impolite things that will not be reproduced in this document. The Stolls had rewired the spear so that the shaft was electrified too._

 _She glared at the picture of the trickster duo pinned up on the wall, marred beyond recognition by all manner of throwing weapons hurled by angry Ares campers._

 _"STOLL!" she screamed._

 _She stomped out of the cabin only to run into Chris, who had that annoyingly good-looking smile of his on his face, as he normally did._

 _"Hey Clarisse, what's up?"_

 _Not even Chris could temper her rage._

 _"WHAT'S UP!?" she roared._

 _"I'LL TELL YOU WHAT'S UP! YOUR IDIOT BROTHERS STOLE OUR STUFF, STOLE_ MY _STUFF, AND MADE MY SPEAR ELECTROCUTE ME!_ THAT'S _WHAT'S UP!"_

 _And then he gave her the smile that was tied with his good-looking, everyday smile for 'Most Annoying Facial Expression' in Clarisse' book: the 'audacity-in-the-face-of-an-angry-Clarisse' smile._

 _"Well, I think I know how you can get them back."_

 _She scowled._

 _"I'm gonna beat them into a pulp. If you've got any brains at all, you'll stay out of my way."_

 _"No, I have a better idea. How 'bout we give them a taste of their own medicine?"_

 _Suffice to say, the Stoll brothers were not amused to find themselves drifting in the ocean off the coast of Long Island on crudely-constructed wooden rafts tied together with old, rotting ropes at six-thirty in the morning the next day while Chris and Clarisse watched from the shore._

 _Travis awoke first._

 _"WHERE THE HADES ARE WE?" he screamed. But he was already so far out at sea that Chris and Clarisse could barely hear him._

 _The two of them stood on the beach, laughing their heads off._

 _"BON VOYAGE!" Chris shouted._

 _Connor's raft promptly disintegrated and sank._

 _Their laughter grew even more intense after that, as Travis struggled to rescue his brother and get them both back to land._

 _Clarisse turned to look at her companion, once again noticing how incredibly good-looking he was. And then, she realised that she wasn't entirely sure that she was only smiling because of the Stoll brothers' misfortune._

She actually _liked_ being around him, she realised. He made her happy. And there weren't many people who could do that.

Clarisse found herself unconsciously reaching out to run her fingers through his hair. She hesitated when she realised what she was doing, but then a part of her told her to continue.

She took its advice.

Despite his exhaustion and unkempt appearance, Clarisse still thought Chris looked incredibly handsome. Almost as handsome as he looked that time when he…he…

 _Chris and Clarisse walked towards the canoe lake. It had been a hard fight. Athena's children pulled their same dirty tricks and Apollo campers kept shooting people from the trees, but in the end, Ares muscled through it all._

 _"Congrats, Clarisse!" Chris laughed, hugging her. He was one of the few people on Earth who could have gotten away with that._

 _"You did it!"_

 _Once again, Clarisse found herself smiling for no apparent reason._

 _The two of them sat in silence by the moonlit lake._

 _"Clarisse, you know, the line-up for today's game…" Chris finally said._

 _"Yeah?"_

 _They turned to meet each other's eyes._

 _"It was exactly the same as this other game some time back where I walked in on a girl with an arrow stuck in her fighting three Athena campers."_

 _Had he been anyone else, she'd have broken his nose for making fun of her. But instead, she smiled._

 _"Chris…I…I wanted to say…thank you."_

 _He blinked._

 _"For what?"_

 _"For…for being my friend. None of the other campers are as nice to me as you are."_

 _Clarisse wasn't sure what it was. Maybe the way the moonlight played in his eyes. Maybe the way his smile looked particularly bright and warm. Maybe the sudden surge when she realised how close he really was to her. But it was then that she decided to act on those feelings that had been buzzing around inside her for so long. She didn't know how to describe them, and she didn't know what to say, but she definitely knew what she had to do. She leaned in._

 _Chris was starting to say something in reply to her, but his voice died in his throat as he saw her closing in._

 _But before either could do anything, one of Clarisse' siblings burst out from the trees behind them._

 _"Clarisse! Where'd you go?"_

 _The two of them turned away from each other, both blushing furiously._

But it was only now, with Chris lying in front of her, broken and tired, yet still handsome as ever, that she realised why she kept feeling like this around him. Why she had almost kissed him, back then. The Aphrodite campers would never shut up about it, but she never thought she'd ever feel it. And it was only now that she understood.

She ran her fingers through his hair, then trailed her hand down his face, gently stroking his cheek and chin.

"I love you, Chris Rodriguez," she whispered tenderly.


	2. Silena Beauregard and the Charm Speaker

**( Did u guys miss me'h, okay so ya'll must be wondering how the heck I type so much so fast, well I have been working on these stories for a month or two straight and did 'Save draft' and 'Hid this chapter'. Now this is me'h fav short story yet! Hope I get comment's and Likes!)**  
Charles Beckendorf carefully adjusted the sliver of Celestial bronze, engraved with magic runes. His large, calloused fingers made such precise work frustrating, but it was worth it.

He picked up a piece of paper and held it close to his face, studying the instructions he had written on it for crafting this particular item. It was difficult to read in the flickering orange light of the forge and the sooty air thick with its heat. His dyslexia didn't help.

Normally, he'd have Silena here to help with the enchantment, but he intended this as a surprise for her. After what just happened…well, nothing like a little handmade romantic gift to smoothen a slightly rough spot in a relationship, right? Fortunately, the event in question had diverted Silena's attention, giving him the time alone he needed.

Silena had taught him how to enchant things himself, but the problem with having your girlfriend as a teacher is that you get distracted very easily. And it didn't help that Silena was the most beautiful girl in camp. The way the light would play in those sapphire orbs of hers, the way her long raven hair would fall gracefully around her shoulders, the way she just looked so pretty and delicate…all of it would always make him want to scoop her up in his arms, hold her, and cuddle her, and just kiss her to bits. And, to make matters worse, he was prone to being randomly struck by the realisation of how absurdly lucky he was to be loved by her, which would result in him zoning out and paying even less attention to her lessons.

Nonetheless, he'd managed to learn enough for him to figure out how to make this enchantment. He'd spent countless sleepless nights working out the design and the runes to use. The inefficiency caused by his rudimentary grasp of enchanting further extended the time and effort required. But it was all worth it. Anything for his baby Silena.

He set the paper down, and finished marking the last sliver. The magic in the runes sent tingles down the nerves in his fingers.

Done.

Now, for the easy part, or at least, the part he was most familiar with.

He thrust the frame of the mirror into the fires of the forge, watching it with the eye of a seasoned smith as it heated up. When it had reached the right temperature, he put the various components in place, applying a soft, precise tap with his hammer to weld the various runed slivers onto the frame, or a more substantial blow to join the larger components to it. Slowly, slowly, the mirror was coming together.

From the musclebound look of master smiths like himself, one would expect their work to involve much more brawn than brain. But in truth, the sweat on his brow was contributed equally to by both mental and physical exertion (aside from the perspiration caused by the heat of the forge). Even with the enchanting out of the way, blacksmithing required perfect recall of the techniques involved, as well as intense focus, exact timing, and precise application of force to ensure that the object came together exactly the way it was supposed to. Doubly so for small objects, like this mirror.

Finally, it was complete. Beckendorf heaved a sigh of relief as he withdrew the mirror from the forge and plunged it into a bucket of cold water. It hissed and steamed as it cooled, and its glow faded.

He pulled the mirror out. Although it had cooled enough for it to stop radiating light, it still had a faint glow around it, and its surface shimmered with magic.

Beckendorf sighed in relief again. It had turned out perfectly.

He placed the mirror back in the water, leaving it to cool further, and then hung up his gloves.

He was just about to head to the Big House to grab some hot chocolate as a reward for a job well done when he heard the sound of sobbing from behind him, quickly growing louder.

He turned around, only to have Silena Beauregard crash into his arms, tears streaming down her face.

* * *

Silena's problems started earlier that morning, when Drew Tanaka had been claimed. No, actually; they'd started two days ago, when Drew had first arrived at camph.

Silena still clearly remembered the scene. She was passing by when she saw a girl and a satyr running towards the camp, with five _dracanae_ slithering after. They'd made it to the property line, but the _dracanae_ were dangerously close. So the satyr shoved the girl across the property line and to safety.

The girl tripped and fell as she stumbled on a tree root, while Peleus proceeded to maul the monsters. She had barely avoided being impaled by one of the _dracanae_ 's spears. But when she got up, she shrieked at her satyr companion, "YOU RUINED MY MANICURE!"

Silena had a feeling that she wasn't going to get along very well with this girl. In fact, she was fairly sure none of the campers would. And, given that this was probably the way she'd been treating the satyr searcher all the way here, she expected him to flip and scream at her. After all, he had every right to, since he'd just saved her life.

But what happened next was completely unexpected. The satyr bowed his head and mumbled a sheepish apology, as if the fault was with him.

At first, Silena had no idea what was going on. But when the girl started talking to the small crowd of campers that had gathered around her, Silena began to pay attention to her words.

"This stupid goat-boy shoved me for no reason!" she shouted. "Is _this_ how you welcome people?"

All around her, people started murmuring in agreement, shooting angry glares at the hapless satyr.

Silena frowned. This made no sense. The girl was clearly in the wrong. Yet everyone seemed to be agreeing with her. What in Hades was going on?

And then, suddenly, she realised what it was. The way her voice sounded unusually rich and sonorous, some things the older Aphrodite campers had told her, some things her own studies into magic had revealed to her, all of it came together in one word.

 _Charmspeak._

She'd heard of how the most powerful children of Aphrodite had the ability to make others do their will by speaking. And, in her own studies of magic, she'd discovered that such a feat was actually possible, but it would take a very skilled practitioner of magic to even begin learning it.

That would explain why everybody was now agreeing with her. Now that she was listening carefully, she realised what was odd about her speech: her words hummed with magic. They didn't affect her, because Silena had fortified her resistance to magic while studying it, but they were strong enough to sway the average demigod.

Silena reached out through the Mist, trying to sense the girl's presence in it. Those particularly gifted in magic would distort it significantly more than even demigods did. But around this girl, Silena felt…

Nothing.

Silena furrowed her brows, focusing harder.

Still nothing.

The girl's Mist signature was indistinguishable from that of the other campers around her. Slightly stronger, but still within the normal range for a demigod.

Which meant that she was either so powerful a sorceress that she could disguise her Mist signature, or…

Silena swallowed. Hard.

It'd been hard to avoid the obvious conclusion, but now there was no evading it. The way this girl was so obsessed over her manicure, the way she looked…well, Silena hated to admit it, just but despite having escaped impalement by snake-women, the girl still looked glamorous, stylish, and very, very pretty.

All of them signs pointing to the fact that this arrogant, powerful, and unpleasantly temperamental demigod was her sister.

She'd been hoping that it was otherwise. She definitely did _not_ want to have to take care of this mean, spoilt, brat. But it had been almost certain that from the outset she was her sister, and anyway there was no possibility of escape the fate associated with that fact now. She could pray that Aphrodite would take a bit longer to claim her, but that was about it.

Suddenly, the crowd's muttering died down, and they parted to let Chiron through. Mr D., of course, was nowhere to be seen.

"Hello, my dear," he said warmly. "What's your name?"

The girl seemed to sense that rudeness would not help her with Chiron, and so adopted a pose of deferent respect. It was very convincing, but Silena could see right through her. This girl was used to getting people to do her dirty work for her, which would probably explain why she was like this. She was a manipulator, and charmspeak was merely one of her tools. The ability to put up fake appearances would be another.

"Drew Tanaka, sir," she said, in a docile tone of voice.

"Well, welcome to Camp Half-Blood, Drew. A safe place for demigods like you, where we can train and teach you to survive in the world. I am Chiron, the Camp Director. I believe your satyr protector has gone through some of these things with you, but it's standard procedure for us to show you the orientation video."

Chiron looked around.

"Well, Silena, do you mind showing our new camper around?"

Silena's shoulders slumped. It was the logical choice. Chiron was no fool; Aphrodite didn't need to give a sign for him to be able to tell from Drew's appearance that she was her daughter. It would have been best for her to get familiar with the head counsellor of her most likely cabin as soon as possible, which, in her case, was, unfortunately, Silena.

But that didn't mean that she liked it. Not one bit.

* * *

Two days passed, and Silena liked Drew even less now. Drew was cruel, vain, selfish and manipulative. Silena was far too nice to say those things to her face, but with each passing hour, Drew's behaviour made Silena's fake friendly smile increasingly hard to maintain. She incessantly called Silena things like 'hon' and 'sweetie', this time not even bothering to disguise her actual sentiments with a veneer of sincerity. She was constantly flirting with random boys, noting down things about them, thinking aloud about how she would use those things to break their hearts. And she liberally applied charmspeak to _everything_. If she didn't feel like doing something, she just charmspoke someone else into it. Her favourite target seemed to be Silena, who played along just in case she ever needed to use her immunity against Drew. Needless to say, this did not endear Drew greatly to Silena.

But it was only this morning that things really started going downhill.

On this particular day, Silena and Beckendorf had a sword-fighting lesson together after breakfast. Unfortunately, Drew was still under Silena's charge, so she would tag along for the lesson.

Never mind that she had tried to flirt with him, despite Silena explicitly telling her he was her boyfriend. Never mind that she rattled off a long list of ways that Silena could break his heart (which caused a series of uncharacteristically violent thoughts to flash through her mind). Never mind that Aphrodite claimed her when she accidentally broke another nail during the lesson, making her even more glamorous and attractive (and finally successfully drawing Beckendorf's attention, albeit only for a few brief seconds).

It was what happened after the lesson that finally caused her to snap. Beckendorf returned to the forges, and Silena took Drew through the rest of her lessons. And when they were done with that, she led her back to the cabin to meet the others.

Silena supposed that was the first mistake. She'd pretty much forgotten about the fact that Drew could charmspeak. While she was resistant to it and didn't even feel it being used on her, her siblings were not. Letting the entire cabin interact with Drew was probably an unwise decision.

They had started out innocuously enough. Silena had asked Drew to introduce herself, but it was only then that it finally dawned upon her that the girl was a very cunning conversationalist – she avoided giving away any details about her personal life, and stuck to the typical subjects that interested children of Aphrodite: fashion and beauty. Come to think of it, Silena hadn't been able to get any personal information out of her either from any of the conversations they'd had over the past two days.

But as the conversation progressed, Silena was starting to see the effect of charmspeak on the cabin. No-one seemed capable of disagreeing with her, and Silena's more unkind siblings had started gravitating towards her. Unbelievable as it seems, she'd established her own clique of the meanest Aphrodite girls within the span of an hour.

The cabin grew more and more polarised, or rather, Drew's clique grew larger, more visible, and more clearly separate from the rest, as the tone of the conversation grew harsher.

Then, Drew held out her hands, "Wait, wait."

The cabin fell silent in two seconds, which was a record. Getting a bunch of chattering teenagers to keep quiet was a task worthy of Hercules. Drew was really pouring on the charmspeak now.

"So, Silena, hun, am I…like, a member of the Aphrodite cabin now, just like that?"

Silena raised one eyebrow. She said that as though it was a bad thing.

But she poured all the effort she could muster into a fake smile for courtesy's sake, and said, "Yeah! Come on, Aphrodite, let's give a big cheer for our newest sister, Drew Tanaka!"

The response was less than enthusiastic. Drew's little clique didn't react at all to this, and one of them even glared briefly at her, as though to say, _'Big cheer'? Seriously? How old do you think we are?_

And even the ones closest to Silena were doing it fairly half-heartedly. She had the feeling that this was going to result in an embarrassingly poor cheer, but she didn't get the chance to find out.

Drew raised her hand.

"No," she said.

The charmspeak reverberated through her words. She had really put a lot of the magic into her speech. Even Silena could feel it through her shielding.

Everybody fell silent.

"Isn't there some sort of rite of passage for someone to be considered a _proper_ Aphrodite camper?"

Waves of murmuring spread over Silena's siblings.

She gulped. She _really_ hadn't wanted to mention it to Drew, especially since she loved breaking peoples' hearts so much. But now, she didn't really have much of a choice.

"Well, uh, there used to be this rite of passage where you were supposed to…uh…break someone's heart. But I did away with it. It was stupid and wrong. It had nothing to do with love."

Drew's eyes widened. Silena may have been feeling rather panicky at that moment, but she still retained enough composure to realise that Drew was staging this.

"But…but have you dated anyone other than that overgrown gorilla!?"

Silena felt her face grow hot. It was personal now.

"Do _not_ talk about my Charlie like that! And I _love_ Charlie! Love isn't supposed to hurt people! It's about wanting the best for someone else! Love is _forever_! It's a terrible thing to break someone's heart. Especially if he's someone you love, and someone who loves you."

Drew laughed, sharply and cruelly. Her charmspeak extended even into her laughter, and her newly-formed clique, as well as several others, joined in.

"Oh, please, sweetie. I knew it. _Clearly_ you're just trying to make excuses. I mean, it's quite obvious, hon. You're just not worthy of being a daughter of Aphrodite."

"Yeah, what kind of taste does it take to like someone as ugly as that?" one of Drew's clique pointed to a photo of Beckendorf on the wall behind Silena's bunk.

"Ewww," Drew's clique chorused.

Silena's face was on fire with anger and embarrassment. Her heart sank when she saw how Drew had managed to abuse her gift from Aphrodite to turn Silena's own siblings against her.

"I mean, how could someone like you even become head counsellor? Have you looked at a mirror lately?" Drew mocked scornfully.

"You're as ugly as stupid hulk that you 'love'," another member of Drew's clique said, with air quotes.

Silena blinked, pushing a teardrop out of her eye and down her face, smearing her makeup. She'd put up with Drew from two whole days. She'd watched her abuse the satyr who saved her life. She'd tolerated her flirting with her boyfriend. But this was it. She couldn't take it anymore. Drew had viciously and baselessly attacked Beckendorf and herself, and even used charmspeak to turn her very own siblings again her, simply because Silena actually understood what love was.

"Aw, is the poor head counsellor sad?"

And that was it. Silena burst into tears, rushing out of her cabin, to the only person who could make her feel safe, sound, and at home again.

* * *

Silena buried her face in her boyfriend's well-muscled chest, wrapping her arms around him, squeezing him close, and sobbing profusely.

She felt his strong arms around her. Though she'd seen those mighty hands at work before, when he touched her, he was always tender, loving and sweet, yet strong, firm and supportive.

He gently stroked her back. "Shh, shh, don't cry, baby."

He kissed her hair softly, and her sobs slowly died down, as she buried herself deeper in his embrace.

"Shh," he whispered into her ear, while savouring her silky-soft skin against his.

"I love you," he said quietly, arms still firmly wrapped around his girlfriend.

And, just like that, her sorrow and bitterness dissolved, all of it fading into insignificance in the face of the knowledge that he loved her. Nothing else mattered, as long as he did.

They stood like that, her leaning into him and him holding her, for a couple minutes more, before Beckendorf murmured, "I'm sorry."

Silena turned around to face him.

"Sorry? Sorry for what?"

"I…when Drew was claimed, I couldn't help but look. And I shouldn't have, Silena. You need to know that I only have eyes for you. Because I love you."

This warmed her up inside, and she couldn't resist the urge to plant another kiss on her boyfriend's lips.

"You're _so_ sweet, Charlie," she said softly.

"Now tell me, why are you crying, Silena? Who did this to you? Who hurt my baby?"

She could detect a hard edge in his voice, like, _Whose butt am I kicking?_

"I-It was Drew," Silena began.

"She-she's so… _mean_! During our sword-fighting class, she was telling me about all kinds of terrible ways I could break your heart! And then…and then after we went back to the cabin, she turned everyone against me…against _us_. Do you remember the old rite of passage where each of us was supposed to break someone's heart?"

Beckendorf nodded. "You got rid of it."

"Yeah. But Drew wants to bring them back. She says that, because I've never dated another guy before, and…and I haven't broken your heart, I'm not worthy to be a daughter of Aphrodite."

Beckendorf huffed indignantly.

"What does she know?"

" _Nothing_! That's the problem. Drew knows _nothing_ about true love. But…she has this magical ability called charmspeaking. When she talks, people obey. They can't resist her. She charms them into submission. I don't blame you for what happened during our lesson. She was using a _lot_ of it when she was flirting with you. For someone without magical shielding, you held out way longer than I thought possible."

He softly stroked her cheek.

"No magic can ever take me away from you, Silena."

She kissed him briefly. Her tears were gone altogether, replaced by a sweet smile.

"I know, Charlie."

And then her smile disappeared.

"But other people listen to her charmspeaking. The whole cabin. Drew's friends are the worst. They were saying all kinds of nasty things about me, you and the two of us together. They…they called us _ugly_ …and…and _stupid_."

Beckendorf smiled as he unwrapped his arms from around his girlfriend.

"I have a present for you, darling," he said, as he walked towards the cooling buckets by the forge, "I was going to make it for you anyway, but after what happened with Drew, I decided to use it as a way of saying sorry. But I guess you could also use it to remind yourself…"

He pulled the mirror out of the bucket. Thank Hephaestus it had cooled enough to touch.

"…that you're beautiful, Silena."

Silena gasped when she saw the mirror.

"It's amazing!" she cried, taking it from him.

Beckendorf walked around her, so that he was standing beside Silena.

"The best part is the reflection."

Silena blushed as he kissed her on the cheek.

"Don't listen to a word they say. You're the most beautiful girl I've ever laid eyes on."

Silena's blush deepened.

"Oh, stop it you," she playfully swatted his arm.

The two of them continued studying the mirror.

"But seriously, it's very well made, Charlie."

"Did all of it myself," Beckendorf said, a twinge of craftsman's pride in his voice. "Even the enchantment."

She cocked her head.

"Enchantment?"

"Yeah. Tell the mirror, 'show me Charlie'."

"Show me Charlie."

The reflection rippled and shimmered, morphing so that, against the laws of physics, the image it showed was centred on Beckendorf.

"You can also talk through it," Beckendorf said, as he turned around.

When he spoke, reflection-Beckedorf's mouth moved too, and Silena heard Beckendorf's voice from inside the mirror. And when he turned, the reflection changed too, so that the image it showed remained centred on his face.

He turned back to her, and she looked up from the mirror to meet his eyes.

"That way," he gently ran his fingers through her hair, "we'll never be apart."

Silena kissed him.

"I love you, Charlie."

Then she turned away, and held the mirror up to her face. Her tears had caused some of her makeup to run, and she used the mirror to guide her in cleaning it off.

Beckendorf couldn't help but smile tenderly as he watched his girlfriend.

"You know," he said, as she slipped the mirror into her pocket after having fixed her makeup, "in the end…when I look at you, I see the girl who loves me completely and absolutely, forever and always. And I love her the same way. Isn't that far more beautiful than Drew and her cruel heartbreaking ever will be?"

She smiled at him. The last of her tears had dried up.

"I guess it is," she pulled him close, so that her face was inches from his.

They gazed into each other's eyes for a brief moment, and both of them whispered, at the same time, "I love you."

And they kissed again, for a long, tender while.


	3. The diary of Luke Castellan two

**(If I get enough revives I just might up date...)**  
Well, here we are again.  
We didn't do much today. Just more walking, and more scavenging for resources. We set up another stash, but the details are, as always, in the log.  
But what I really want to write about was what I was dreaming about before Thalia woke me up for guard duty.  
Demigod dreams are dangerous. They can show you things, things you don't want to see, things you _will_ see no matter how badly you don't want to see them, and, if you're lucky, things that can save your life.  
The one thing about our dreams is that they always meant something.  
So, why had I been having this particular dream so many times? Thrice in the past week.  
Simply put, it was a dream about how I met Thalia.  
I glance at my girls, sleeping by the fireplace. Thalia is hugging Annabeth.  
Yeah, that's right. I wrote ' _my_ girls'. I've been thinking about them in more possessive terms lately. Probably because of the whole family thing. If Annabeth was the little girl and I was the 'dad', then that made Thalia, like, the mum. My wife. Fortunately, we haven't had the chance to have this awkward conversation yet.  
But recently, Thalia and I have grown closer. It isn't just the two of us watching each other's backs anymore. We have to take care of Annabeth now. She's counting on us to keep her safe. We have to trust and depend on each other even more than before. Maybe that was why I've been thinking about her more than usual lately.  
So, anyway, I guess I should write down the story of how I met Thalia. I'm getting dreams about it. Lots of dreams. I don't know what I was supposed to do about them, so I guess I'll just put it down in this diary. It's just about the _only_ thing I can do.  
I'll start with the night I ran away from the house.

* * *

I glanced at my friend, Anthony, slumbering quietly on his comfy bed.  
I sighed. I felt kind of bad for doing this, sneaking away in the middle of the night and leaving only a hastily-written note for this mortal (luckily for me, I'm not dyslexic, unlike most demigods, including Thalia and Annabeth), whose life and family I had put at risk by befriending and living with.  
But I told myself this was for his own good. He was giving me his food and letting me stay in his house. And I attracted monsters. Honestly, it was pure luck that we hadn't been attacked yet. He got nothing out of the deal.  
Anthony was a nice guy, but he kept talking about how cool it was that I had demigod powers and all. I kept trying to tell him about the monsters, but he ignored me. I had half a mind to stay around until monsters actually attacked to show him how bad it was, but that would have been a little mean, given how much he'd helped me.  
So I stuffed my things into my pack (including quite a bit of food from Anthony), put the note on his table, and picked up my sword (yeah, the sword that got melted in acid. That's a story for another time). The sword was given to me by my Mum when I was just a kid, and it collapsed into a key. I never discovered what it opened, but I knew that, if you twisted the blade, the bit with the teeth, and the bow, the part you're supposed to hold, in opposite directions, it turned into a sword with a hard-to-turn dial where the blade and the hilt met. You turned the dial to change it back.  
With everything packed up, I headed out. One thing about children of Hermes: we were good and getting in and out of places without anybody noticing, and possibly causing all sorts of chaos on the way. Like how my Dad got into my Mum's life, got out, and left it a complete wreck.  
As I moved through the quiet streets, my first thought was to get out of the city as quickly as possible. When monsters attacked, it was best to be as far away from civilisation I could manage to be. Otherwise people could get hurt.  
Yeah, unlike _some_ gods I could name, I actually cared about hurting innocent people.  
Anyway, even though I'd stayed here a few days and gotten somewhat familiar with the city (and there were few other places I could say the same for), it was completely different when you were a demigod walking around alone at night. In the day it was all well-preserved Southern architecture from various periods of history. But at night, it was walls of darkness, shifting shadows and faint circles of light, a landscape of potential hiding spots for monsters. I held my sword so tightly my knuckles turned white. My heart would jump whenever I saw a blade of grass twitch, whenever I got careless and scraped my foot against the ground instead of landing silently on my heel, or whenever I heard a bug chirping. And I almost chopped a cat that dashed across the road in front of me into half with my sword.  
The rest of my journey out passed in silence, or at least it did, until I was almost out of the city. Then I heard a deep, menacing, and unfortunately familiar growl that I was pretty sure didn't come from the stray dog I just saw slinking by.  
 _Hellhounds._  
Lucky Anthony. If I'd stayed any longer, they'd have come for me, probably demolishing his house in the process.  
I flourished my sword to give myself confidence, appreciating its precise, balanced weight as it whistled through the air, and then extended it towards the darkness around me. I don't know why, but I've always been at ease using swords. It wasn't even a talent of my Dad's or anything. But sword-fighting came naturally to me. For years I'd survived all on my own, and countless times, it was my sword skills that had saved my life.  
OK, so I scanned the area around me, and I counted, in the shadows around the streets, one, two, three, four, _five_ massive, moving blobs of darkness.  
Five hellhounds.  
That was it. I was dead. Those things moved like lightning, and getting hit by one of them was like getting hit by a tractor. If they attacked me one at a time I could probably use my sword-fighting techniques to kill them all, but monsters are only that nice in movies.  
I considered the most likely outcomes. If I fought, I would be able to kill one if I was lucky, but the others would shred me (and probably wreck most of the neighbourhood fighting over my corpse, too). If I fled, I wouldn't be able to outrun them, but if I made it out of town, I could probably spare the residents of Charleston some pain.  
Not much of a choice. Die painfully in a town now, or die painfully in a forest about half a minute later, at most. But I guess, if I was going to die anyway, I might as well go out the way that wouldn't result in innocent people's stuff getting destroyed.  
So I collapsed my sword and dashed down the street, out of the town. Some demigod hero I must be, I thought, if the last worthwhile thing I do with my life is to die without making too much of a mess.

* * *

I ran as fast as my legs could carry me, tearing through the trees that surrounded the city. For a son of Hermes, that's pretty fast. One of the perks of having him as a Dad, I guess. But I'd have gladly traded it and all my other demigod powers for a normal family. A Dad who was actually there for me.  
Even with Hermes' divine speed, I could barely stay ahead of the hellhounds, who bounded after me, snapping and snarling and howling. Each growl was louder and closer than the last, and I didn't get very far from the city before I could feel the nearest hellhound literally breathing down my neck.  
I continued running, even though I knew I only had a few seconds left to live at most. If leading them away from the city was the last thing I ever did, it was worth doing well.  
As I ran, I almost smashed into a knoll, but I saw it and stopped in time. It was very difficult to make things out in a forest in the dead of the night. The hellhounds trying to eat me didn't help.  
Well, so much for leading them away.  
This was about as far from Charleston as I could get. The delay caused by stopping in front of the knoll had cost me too much time. Running would just delay my gruesome death at the claws and teeth of a hellhound by a fraction of a second.  
No. It was time to fight, even though I knew there was no way I could win. No more running.  
I drew my sword and spun around in one fluid movement, expecting my blade to slice through a pouncing hellhound and disintegrate it into a pile of dust. But instead, it passed through thin air. I'd swung too hard, throwing myself off-balance, so I stumbled a bit. To my relief and surprise, the hellhounds didn't capitalise on this moment and tear me to shreds.  
I looked up. The hellhounds had also stopped running, and they were about fifteen metres from me. They circled me, eyeing me hungrily, but when one glanced at the knoll, I almost thought I saw it flinch.  
I briefly examined the knoll, while keeping my sword extended towards the hellhounds. It seemed perfectly normal. Just a knob of ground, covered in trees, about the size of a small house. But as the blood and adrenaline that had rushed to my head during the chase ebbed away, I realised that there was a funny smell coming from someplace close. Not the hellhounds. Their smell wasn't like that. Not myself. I'd just taken a shower before leaving Anthony's house, so it wasn't anything from there, and my sweat didn't smell like that either. This was more of a rancid-meat stench, like the mouth of a large carnivore with poor dental hygiene.  
The hellhounds glanced at each other, and then at me.  
Till then, I never thought I'd ever look into a hellhound's eyes and find fear there. Not panicked terror, but cold, apprehensive fear. Dread.  
And then I realised with a sinking feeling that they weren't scared of me. They were scared of the knoll.  
But, just as I thought they were about to back away, their growls began to grow more menacing and aggressive, and they started closing in on me. No such luck. Apparently, whatever it was about the knoll that scared them, having me for dinner was worth it.  
I moved towards the source of the scent, figuring it must have come from whatever it was about this knoll that the hellhounds were afraid of. If _they_ were scared of it, I didn't like my chances if I had to go up against it. But at least I _had_ a chance. There was no way I'd be able to kill all the hellhounds. Facing them was certain death. Facing whatever it was that scared them wouldn't be much more pleasant, but at least it would only be _probable_ death.  
The hellhounds' advance faltered, as the rotten meat smell grew stronger. Apparently, they were having second thoughts.  
I pressed myself against the knoll as I inched around it, closing in on the source of the smell. The hellhounds continued growling at me, but now they moved more slowly and cautiously.  
I didn't see the cave entrance until I fell into it.  
As I stumbled back into the hole in the knoll, the meat stench grew even more overpowering. As I stood up, the hellhounds uttered low growls and finally retreated. They didn't leave, but they stood a safe distance away.  
I heaved a sigh of relief. I was safe. For now.  
I turned to the inside of the cave. For a moment, I had the absurd expectation that it would look something like the Teletubbies' house. But no, it just looked like an ordinary cave.  
In the faint light cast by my Celestial bronze blade, I could see a slope that led underground, presumably to an even larger cavern. A flickering glow came from its bottom.  
The light from my blade glinted off something white in the cave.  
I walked up to it, and immediately regretted my decision.  
It was a deer's skeleton, with bits of meat still hanging on it. A cloud of flies buzzed around it, picking at the meat.  
I felt sick to the pit of my stomach, a sensation that was not helped by my blade revealing more skeletons with rotten meat on them littering the cave.  
I figured that this must have been the dining room of whatever it was that made its home here.  
Which was just another reason why I was not looking forward to meeting it.  
I turned around. The hellhounds were still waiting outside.  
Looks like I had no choice but to go in. Whatever it was that lived here would come out sooner or later. And I wanted to gather as much information about it as I could so I would have some time to formulate a battle plan, if it came down to that.  
I sighed heavily. Holding my sword at the ready, I descended into the cavern with small, light, silent steps.

* * *

I'd expected the meat stench to ease up as I got further from the 'dining room', but I was let down. As I got closer to the bottom of the slope, it got worse. And I was suddenly aware of deep, low growling sound coming from beyond it. It wasn't like the growling of the hellhounds about to pounce, though. It was rhythmic, like, _one, two, one, two. Growl, growl. Growl, growl._  
Then I reached the end of the slope, which opened up into a much larger cavern. In the middle of it was a roaring log fire, with a stack of uprooted trees burning in it. And, curled up next to it, was a massive, slumbering, honest-to-goodness dragon; wings, tail, brown scaly hide, and all. It was snoring, which would explain the growling noise, and each time it exhaled, flames would puff from its nostrils.  
I know, I know, you're probably thinking " _But dragons are from medieval mythology! There's no such thing as a Greek dragon!_ "  
That was what I thought too, but, well, tough. This one looked pretty real to me.  
OK, so a dragon wasn't so bad. I could only fight one monster at a time, so I wouldn't die immediately if I took on one dragon. Getting pounced on by hellhounds from five different directions would kill me instantly.  
But I'd never even met a dragon before, much less knew how to kill one. I had the feeling that one didn't simply walk up to it, stab it with a Celestial bronze blade, and hope it disintegrated.  
Suddenly, I heard the thunder of footstep coming from outside.  
Unfortunately, so did the dragon.  
It shifted uncomfortably in its sleep, before its eyes snapped open.  
Uh-oh.  
I dove behind a rock, and almost puked when I found myself next to a half-decomposed human corpse.  
Apparently dragons didn't share the concept of a 'dining room' with humans.  
The dragon threw its head up and roared. Tongues of flame burst from its mouth, licking the ceiling.  
And it rushed up the slope.  
I was nearly dizzy at my good fortune. The sight of the dragon would almost certainly send the hellhounds packing, if being near its lair already scared them so much. Then I'd be able to run out and escape, and I wouldn't have to fight either the hellhounds or the dragon.  
I turned my sword back into key mode and tucked it in my pocket. I was going to need every bit of speed I could muster.  
I could still hear footsteps, and I wondered what or who it was that had drawn the dragon's attention. Then I realised it was probably a demigod who had been forced into the cave because of the hellhounds I lured outside, and I immediately felt bad about myself. Another demigod, whose life probably wasn't much easier than mine, had been forced by the hellhounds that I had lured here into a dragon's cave, accidentally woke up said dragon, and was now about to get eaten by it. And all I could think about was how this would scare the hellhounds away and allow me to escape.  
I drew my sword again. If I helped the demigod, I would definitely alert the dragon. Then I wouldn't be able to flee without it chasing me. Would I be able to outrun it? I didn't know. But I knew I couldn't let another demigod get hurt because of me.  
I ran towards the slope, mentally preparing myself to go out fighting a dragon, but before I reached it, a flash of black rounded the corner and slammed into me.  
"Oof!" the flash of black, who turned out to be a girl, cried, stumbling and falling. She dropped the spear she was carrying, and it clattered to the ground.  
I kept my balance, but when I looked down at the girl I'd run into, I felt my legs grow weak.  
She was the prettiest girl I'd met in my life. I mean, I guess it didn't really go all too well with the punk clothes and short, spiky black hair, but she had the most beautiful features I'd ever seen. She had freckles across her nose, and intense, electric blue eyes that I found…well, irresistible.  
I crouched down.  
"Uh…hey," I said lamely.  
She glanced up at me. I thought I saw her eyes light up, by I guess it was just my imagination.  
I extended my hand to help her up. Now I'd like to say that sparks flew when we touched, but unfortunately they literally did.  
I yelped, jumping back. A daughter of Zeus, apparently.  
"Oh, I'm sorry!" the girl gasped, blushing as she stood up.  
She took my hand and checked it for injury. Her skin was soft and cool against mine.  
"It's okay," I drew my hand back to myself.  
She picked up her spear, and then we looked awkwardly at each other for a few seconds.  
"I'm Luke," I introduced myself, feeling pretty self-conscious.  
"Thalia," she said, nervously scratching the back of her head and blushing.  
For a second, it was almost like we weren't demigods on the run, but the guy and the girl in some sappy teen rom-com.  
And then the dragon roared, shattering the illusion, as it charged back down into its cave.  
I grabbed her hand and pulled her towards me, then wrapped my arms around her, throwing us both to the ground and rolling behind the rock to rejoin my pal the decomposing corpse.  
We were both blushing as she disentangled herself from my arms, but the dragon wasn't giving us any time to feel embarrassed. It sniffed the air and roared, releasing a huge burst of flame for effect.  
She wrinkled her nose at the corpse.  
I anticipated her question.  
"I was hoping the stench would help us avoid the dragon," I whispered.  
She nodded silently.  
"You're…you're like me, right?" she asked softly.  
I nodded. "Demigod. Son of Hermes."  
"Daughter of—"  
"Zeus?"  
She cocked her head. "How did you—"  
"Sparks. Quite obvious."  
The dragon roared again.  
"I ran into some hellhounds and outside the cave. I had no choice but to go in. Then the dragon chased me around, and I ran into you," she explained in hushed tones. "What about you? How did you get down here?"Before we could continue our conversation, the dragon moved closer and bent down, trying to sniff us out. I grabbed her arm, pulled her down, and pressed her against the rock as the dragon's head passed over us, reaching with my other arm to pull the putrid-smelling corpse closer, trying to mask our scent.  
The tactic seemed to work. With a growl, the dragon turned to sniff another pile of rocks.  
"We can't hide forever. We need a plan," she said, unpeeling herself from the rock as I shoved the corpse away.  
I scanned our surroundings. Corpses and carcasses in various states of decomposition, a log fire, and my backpack filled with clothes, food and water. Nothing that would be much help against a hungry, raging dragon.  
"The hellhounds should be gone, if they have any sense of self-preservation," I told her. "So all that's left is the dragon. If we're both going to get out of this alive, we're going to have to put it to sleep or kill it. Trouble is, doesn't look like there's anything here that could help us do that."  
She glanced at the dragon's scales, and then at our weapons.  
"And I don't think we're going to have much luck hurting it with these," she lifted her spear.  
I nodded. "I figured as much."  
She frowned, deep in thought.  
"Hermes…what did he do again?"  
"Wreck my life," I muttered.  
Thalia was silent. I glanced at her. Despite her dangerous appearance, the look in her eyes was tender and broken. I had the feeling that whatever Zeus had put her through probably wasn't much better than the kind of life Hermes had left me.  
"OK, anyway," I changed the subject back to the original question, "Hermes is the god of a lot of things. Travel. Speed. Messengers."  
"Thieves?"  
I scowled. I'd inherited a few abilities from that aspect of my father's patronage that I wasn't particularly proud of.  
"Yeah. But none of that's useful. I really don't think I'll be able to outrun a dragon."  
Suddenly, it struck me.  
"You're the daughter of Zeus, right? He's the Lord of the Sky. Can you fly?"  
She shuddered. "No…"  
I cocked an eyebrow. It was almost as though she was _scared_ of flying. But I figured I'll ask her later.  
"OK, um…can you summon lightning?"  
She chewed her lip and avoided my gaze.  
"Yeah, but it'll take a bit of time. And it's not very precise."  
"Great! We'll lure the creature out into the open. Go someplace where the dragon can't see you, like behind the knoll, and focus. I'll run around and keep it busy until you're ready."  
She still looked doubtful.  
"Don't worry," I flashed her a confident smile. "Trust me, I can stay alive long enough."  
"It's not you I'm worried about. It's me."  
I patted her shoulder.  
"You can do it," I tried to reassure her. "We'll both get out of this alive. I promise."  
She sighed, and then nodded, and her eyes hardened with resolve.  
"Let's go."  
I collapsed my sword and tucked in into my pocket. It wouldn't be any good against the dragon, and would only slow me down.  
"Alright. You go first. Get in position. I'll keep the dragon off you."  
She nodded, and dashed out.  
The sudden motion caught the dragon's attention, but then I shouted, "HEY MEAT BREATH!"  
With a surprised grunt, the dragon turned to face me. I was standing next to the rock, on the opposite side from the slope leading out.  
"OVER HERE, YOU UGLY OVERGROWN LIZARD!"  
The dragon roared angrily. I didn't know if it understood my words, but it seemed to get the tone.  
I dive-rolled to the side as the dragon torched the ground I had been standing on. Gymnastic ability was another Hermes thing.  
"COME ON!" I taunted the dragon.  
This time, I was barely able to dodge the dragon's lunge. If I'd hesitated for half a second, I'd have been dinner.  
Luckily, the dragon's lunge had carried it into the wall of the cave, smashing its face – _hard_ – into it, so it was stunned for a few seconds. Long enough for me to make a mad dash for the exit.  
The dragon roared and charged after me as I stumbled from the top of the slope into the entrance cave in the knoll. Thalia was nowhere to be seen, which was good. It meant she'd gotten out of the cave.  
I dove to the side, and not a moment too soon. The dragon rushed into the cavern about a second after I did. It would have trampled me if I'd remained there.  
I regained my balance as the dragon, who was facing out of the knoll, turned around, sniffing about.  
"I'M OVER HERE, YOU STUPID BEAST!" I shouted, trying to keep its attention on me and stop it from picking up Thalia's scent.  
The dragon didn't seem all too bright. It released another of its signature roars, and lunged, slamming its head into the wall again. This dazed it long enough for me to flee into the forest outside.  
"COME AND GET ME!" I yelled, running from the knoll.  
The hellhounds, thankfully, were gone, and there was still no trace of Thalia, which meant that she had taken my advice and gone behind the knoll.  
I tumbled to the side as a blast of flame erupted from the mouth of the cave, followed by a very angry dragon.  
It roared again, and then charged at me.  
 _Thalia, hurry up_ , I thought, as I began playing the deadliest and most bizarre game of catch in my life.  
The dragon, fortunately, didn't breathe fire, so I didn't have to constantly dodge jets of flame from it. I suppose it knew that fire spreads very easily, and it didn't want to destroy the forest, since it was the source of its food and the logs for its fire. I tried to keep it from getting too far from the knoll, while also making sure that it stayed in front of it, away from Thalia.  
The creature was powerful, but it was difficult for it to change its direction. I played that to my advantage: I turned as much as possible, causing the dragon to have to constantly start and stop to match my direction. It was also too bulky to move through the gaps in trees, so it had to smash through them instead, slowing itself down. I, on the other hand, was easily able to climb and vault through the forest, thanks to the agility I got from Hermes.  
So I ran, jumped and climbed around in circles, occasionally glancing up to see the clouds above growing thicker and darker. And finally, after what seemed like forever, as I ran towards the knoll, I felt the air grow electric, and every hair on my body stood on end.  
 _Finally_.  
"NOW! GET THE DRAGON, THALIA!"  
Thunder shook the ground, and the electricity in the air rapidly grew far sharper.  
So imagine my utter surprise as a bolt of lightning arced down from the skies…right in front of me.  
" _Thalia_!" I yelped, jumping back before I'd stopped running forward. This ended up with me crashing quite unceremoniously to the ground on my backside.  
" _Oh my gods, LUKE!_ " Thalia screamed.  
And then the dragon lunged at me.  
I rolled out of the way as it smashed into another tree.  
I struggled to my feet, as the dragon turned to face me.  
" _LUKE!_ "  
With a grunt, the creature whirled around, its ears perking up, listening for the source of the voice.  
"I'm alright, Thalia!" I shouted, attempting to draw the creature's attention back to me.  
"Try again! Come on, you can do it!"  
Thalia didn't respond, fortunately, so now the dragon was focused entirely on me.  
"THIS ISN'T OVER, YOU GIANT WORM!"  
The dragon roared, releasing a puff of flame to show that it meant business.  
I didn't stick around.  
The chase continued, as my legs screamed in protest. Pain and exhaustion clung to me, while the dragon still seemed fighting fit. It had knocked down quite a few of the trees here, so now I couldn't run between them, but had to climb and jump even more. Nonetheless, I steeled myself, and kept on running. I promised Thalia we'd make it out of this mess in one piece. I intended to keep that promise.  
My feet were on fire, my shirt was soaked through with sweat, my ragged, heavy breathing seemed louder than the roars of the dragon, everything was a haze of aches and fatigue, and I'd later discover that I acquired a grand total of twenty-three splinters from climbing all those logs and trees. But I held out until I felt that familiar tingle in the air, at which point I almost screamed with relief.  
The dragon was closing in on me as I ran towards the knoll again. Acid burned in my thighs, and I could feel the air rippling against the back of my neck from the dragon's jaws snapping behind me.  
" _THALIA!_ "  
Thunder boomed.  
And my nostrils were filled with the stench of charred meat.  
I turned around.  
The dragon was dead.  
Thalia staggered out from behind the knoll. I could see how pale she was in the moonlight. Summoning those two bolts of lightning had really taken it out of her.  
Despite the pain in my legs, I ran up to her, and she fell into my arms, exhausted.  
"Did…did we kill it?"  
I smiled tenderly at her, as I held her.  
"Yes, Thalia. It's dead. We did it."  
She smiled peacefully, and nodded, before closing her eyes and falling asleep, collapsing completely into my arms.  
Even though I felt like collapsing myself, I scooped up her legs, and carried her bridal style into the cavern. I was ready to pass out myself, but I had to make sure we were someplace safe. It would be rather sad if we'd survived the dragon and the hellhounds just to get eaten by monsters while we slept. When we got there, I almost dropped her on the ground, but somehow managed to hold out long enough to lower her gently, before crumpling myself.  
The last thing I remembered before passing out from fatigue was realising how beautiful she looked in the orange light of the dragon's log fire.

* * *

Thalia woke up before I did. Fortunately, no monsters had come in to attack us as we slept, but then they'd have to be pretty dumb to try to find a snack inside a dragon's cave.  
I looked around. There weren't any corpses in sight, and the rotten meat smell was now much fainter. I figured Thalia must've cleaned up the place while I was still unconscious.  
Thalia was staring into the fire, occasionally poking it with a twig. I couldn't read her expression.  
When she saw me stirring, once again, I thought I saw her eyes light up.  
"You're awake," she observed.  
She got up and walked to me.  
"Here," she crouched down beside me, "drink some nectar."  
She picked up my jar of the godly drink and offered it to me.  
"You've got cuts and scrapes everywhere."  
I winced as my fingers curled around the cool glass, pressing the splinters in.  
She noticed this, and prised the jar from my hand.  
"Let me see."  
I didn't resist as she took my hand and began gently picking them out.  
I sat there, quite in awe of the fact that an extremely pretty girl was treating me so tenderly and sweetly. This was, by far, the best thing that had happened to me in quite a while.  
So I just waited, letting Thalia do her thing, until she'd picked out the last splinter.  
"There. All done."  
She opened the jar of nectar and pressed it to my lips.  
"Here. Try the nectar now."  
I took the jar, and poured a little bit into my mouth. It tasted like cookies. The amazing kind that Mum used to make before…before…  
I shuddered, putting the memory out of my mind.  
I felt the pain from my cuts fading, the wounds sealing up, the flesh knitting together.  
I put the jar down and screwed the lid back on.  
Thalia picked up one of the sandwiches I took from Anthony's house, and offered it to me.  
As if on cue, my stomach rumbled. All that running and jumping _had_ made me hungry.  
I gratefully accepted it with a muttered word of thanks, then began wolfing it down.  
Thalia picked up another sandwich.  
"Mind if I…?"  
"Yeah, sure," I said with my mouth full.  
She snorted in amusement. I guess my voice did sound a little funny when it was muffled like that. But some part of me hoped that she'd snorted because she found it cute.  
We sat, eating together in a somewhat awkward silence.  
"So, uh, thanks for saving me," she finally said.  
I blushed, feeling self-conscious. "No, you saved me."  
"I guess neither of us would've survived without each other."  
"I guess," I agreed.  
More silence.  
"Uh, Thalia?"  
"Hmm?"  
"You know, we make a pretty good team."  
She smiled. "Yeah. I know."  
"We should stick together," I said. "I mean, this time, we got lucky. We ran into each other. But if we split up and either of us has to face something that you or I can't handle alone, then we're toast. So I figured we'd have a better chance of surviving if we travelled with each other."  
Her smile widened.  
"Yeah. I'd like to travel with you. After all, like you said, we make a pretty good team."  
The compliment made my insides melt a little.  
I extended my hand, "Team?"  
Still smiling, she shook it, "Team."  
" _Yow!_ "  
She gasped and covered her mouth.  
"I'm sorry, Luke!"

* * *

As I walked out of the dragon's cave and into the morning light, I actually felt pretty good. For the first time since…well, since what Hermes did to my Mum, I had someone by my side. Someone I could trust and rely on. Someone who could understand and support and help me. And…and though I didn't know exactly how to describe it back then, I know now: she was someone I wanted to be something more with. Someone I wanted to be close to. Close _r_. The first person like that. The only person, too, so far.  
In short, I had a crush on Thalia Grace (note to self: do not let Thalia see this diary. Although she's dyslexic, I'm not taking any chances).

* * *

So, yeah. Basically, that's the story of how I met Thalia.  
Maybe that's what all those dreams were about. Now that she's my 'wife', maybe I've realised that's what I've wanted her to be all along.  
But demigods don't have time for this kind of drama. We lose enough sleep staying awake to look out for monsters as it is. We don't need to lose any more over boy/girl problems.  
And now it wasn't just the two of us looking out for each other. We had to take care of Annabeth now. Dealing with this kind of stuff now would be just plain selfish, not to mention dangerous to all of us.  
But I can't help thinking that someday, we'll find a safe place, away from all the monsters, where we can settle down, the three of us, and Thalia and I can finally be more than just friends. Most of me knows that this is just wishful thinking, but a part of me doesn't want to give up hope.  
But I guess, for now, all I can do is be a good 'husband' to Thalia, and a good 'dad' to Annabeth. Maybe someday, I'll find a safe place for them. But, until then, since our deadbeat Olympian parents have abandoned us, they'll only be as safe as I make them.  
I look at my girls again. I was going to do what our parents should've but didn't. I would never let them get hurt. Never. I was going to keep them safe. I was going to protect them, no matter what it cost me.  
Well, it's almost Annabeth's turn for guard duty. We've been training her to do it since we met her. She can't force herself to wake up at certain times yet, but she would get used to it eventually. Already she'd saved us once by alerting us to a monster attack.  
So, now, I guess I'd better get what sleep I can. Maybe now that I've written all that down, I'll stop dreaming about it. But, then…would having that particular dream again be so bad?  
But then, anyway, like I said, there's no time for that kind of drama. I'd better wake Annabeth now. She needs to get used to strict schedules. So, for now, this is Luke Castellan – signing off.

 **(Okay, this took me two hole weeks to do. so u better like this. And as for the Jason asking about Thalia's life-I will see. Mostly coz I didn't get to finish the hole HoO books. I only know small facts. But I promise I will try my very best. Well plz like and let me know what u think. Bye! Banana Jump!)**


	4. As Fast as I can

"It'll be fine, Silena." Beckendorf said, sitting down next to her in the sand. He slipped an arm around her waist and pulled her closer. "Percy and I are going to come back safe. I promise." Silena took a deep breath and leaned her head on his shoulder.

"Charlie, I just don't want to see you get hurt." Silena said quietly. "When you fell out of that tree in the woods and hurt your head, I was worried sick. How do you think I'm going to act when you come back and you're all beatup and bruised?" Silena paused and took a deep breath. "Or if you don't come back at all?" She muttered. Beckendorf sighed and leaned forward, kissing her lightly on the lips.

"Silena..." Beckendorf said, giving her a little squeeze. "Percy and I sneak on, plant the bomb, sneak off. The cruise ship blows up and takes, Kronos and all the other baddies with it."

"What if you get caught? Or what if monsters know you're coming? Or what if they set off an alarm? Or what if-" Beckendorf interrupted her by pressing his lips to hers. He felt her respond and lean into him, kissing him back. Beckendorf took her hand and held it in his, her small nimble fingers curling around his large calloused hands. He pulled away a little and looked into her beautiful blue eyes. "I just...I don't know what I would do if I lost you." She said quietly, her hair falling into her eyes. Beckendorf smiled a little and brushed the black hair away from her face, tucking it behind her ear.

"You won't." Beckendorf said in the same quiet tone before kissing her forehead. "You've seen Percy fight. You've seen me fight. Some monsters aren't going to stop us." She took a deep breath and moved her head to his shoulder, leaning her forehead on his strong shoulders.

"You can't just let me be worried?" Silena said with a small chuckle. Beckendorf laughed and pulled away a little, looking into her eyes. He took a deep breath and kissed her.

"No." He said simply after a moment. She blinked at him before giggling and slipping her arms around his neck.

"You are not nice, Mr. Beckendorf." She said, flashing her brilliantly white smile full of perfect teeth.

"Do you like that name?" He asked, running his fingers along her arms. Silena tilted her head a little.

"It's fine, I suppose. It's a strong name." She said, kissing him on the lips. "I call you Charlie anyway, Charlie."

"Well, about Beckendorf." He said, exchanging her kisses with his own. "I was wondering if you might want it. Eventually." He asked quietly, putting his hands on her hips. Silena paused and pulled away.

"Are...Are you asking what I think you're asking?" She said quietly. Beckendorf thought for a moment and then nodded.

"Yeah. Yeah, I think I am. What do you think?" Beckendorf asked, his eyes telling a mix of emotions that he was trying to hide in the rest of his face. Silena just stared at him for what felt like the longest time and then finally tackled him into the sand, her lips pressed tightly to his.

"Yes! Of course. Charlie, I...yeah!" She said quickly. Beckendorf laughed and slipped his arm around her, holding her close. She snuggled into him, putting an arm around his chest and resting her head on his shoulder. They laid there like that, listening to the sound of the waves coming in and out and listening to the sounds of each other's breathing. Beckendorf danced his fingers along her arm and after a moment she seemed to fall asleep. It wasn't for very long when she was awoken by Beckendorf getting up.

"Beckendorf, it's time to go." Clarisse walked onto the beach with a jet black pegasus in tow. "Everything's in the saddle bag." Beckendorf nodded and stood up, helping Silena to her feet.

"Come home quickly, Charlie." She said quietly, wrapping her arms around his middle and burying her face in his chest. Beckendorf put his arms around her and kissed her hair.

"I will. As fast as I can." He said, taking a deep breath. "I love you, Silena." He said quietly, lifting her chin up and kissing her lips.

"I love you, too." She said as they finally broke apart. "Tell Percy I say hey." She said with a smile.

"Will do. Goodbye, Silena." He said before taking off into the sky, a black figure going further and further away until disappearing over the horizon.

"Come on, Silena. I think Annabeth has a report to share." Silena nodded softly and let Clarisse put an arm around her before walking back to camp.

"Please be okay, Charlie. For my sake." She mumbled under her breath as she adjusted her charm bracelet and closed her eyes. "You just have to."

 **(A/N: sorry for it being short and crappy guys.)**


	5. Annabeth Chase and the Moutin of Fire

**(Okay, so we all know what had happened to Percy in the Labyrinth when he told Annabeth to go, but what really happened on wise girls point of view? Read to find out!)**

"Put your cap back on," Percy said. "Get out!"'

"What?" I shrieked. "No! I'm not leaving you."

Even as I said it, I realised he was right. There were just too many telkhines. Either one of us fled with the cap, or the sea demons shredded us both.

"I've got a plan. I'll distract them. You can use the metal spider—maybe it'll lead you back to Hephaestus. You have to tell him what's going on."

"But you'll be killed!" I tried to protest.

"I'll be fine. Besides, we've got no choice."

I glared at him. Of all the times for him to be right for once…

But as I continued glaring at him, several details about him began popping out annoyingly at me, like how handsome he was (hey, you gotta admit – the guy's good-looking), how gorgeous the fiery light of the volcano made his sea-green eyes appear, or how heroic that determined glint in them made him look.

I felt like slapping myself. This was not the time to worry about my teensy-weensy crush on my best friend. But at the same time I couldn't help thinking how incredibly sweet and courageous it was for him to be sacrificing himself for me like this, putting his life out on the line to protect me.

No, stop it, I chided myself. He just cares about you as a friend. We couldn't afford to waste time on this sort of drama. I didn't know if he thought of me as more than that. In fact, I didn't even know if I thought of him that way. I wasn't even sure of my own emotions. If I went that way with him, I might just end up breaking his heart.

Then I took a second look at the teeming horde of telkhines, and my walls came tumbling down.

Who was I kidding? I'd had a crush on Percy since we were twelve. And…after going through so much with him…getting to know him so well…I guess it had grown into…well, more than a crush. True, I wasn't sure what I felt, but I was sure I felt something. Something strong. And…and now…even though he said he would be fine, we both knew that his chances of escaping without the cap were microscopic.

I might never see Percy again. I might never get to let him know how I really felt about him. And…okay, I'll admit it, I've had my fair share of fantasies about kissing Percy.

So, before I could change my mind, I leaned in, and quickly pressed my lips to his.

I was positively dizzy when I pulled away. His lips tasted like the sea. Kissing him felt even more amazing than I'd imagined it would. And the subsequent look of confusion on his face was incredibly cute.

"Be careful, Seaweed Brain," I said, then I put on the cap and vanished, preventing the situation from growing any more awkward.

Then the realisation that that was probably the last time I'd ever see him hit me with full force.

My eyes stung with tears as I fled towards the entrance to the Labyrinth. I didn't dare look back. It would hurt too much to watch Percy die.

"Let us see how strong he is. Let us see how long it takes him to burn!" I heard one of the telkhines say.

A knife of pain twisted in my heart.

"Oh gods, Percy…" I whispered, hot tears streaming down my face. The image of Percy engulfed in flames, slowly burning to death, curled up on the floor and screaming in pain, flashed before my eyes.

I was so tempted to turn around, but I had a horrible feeling that that was exactly what I would see.

I had just entered the Labyrinth when I heard it.

His scream.

It was a blood-curdling howl of pure agony that filled my veins with icy acid, smashed my heart to pieces, stopped me in my tracks, and brought me to my knees, sobbing uncontrollably.

I couldn't imagine the kind of pain that Percy must've been going through. I didn't want to. And though I'd known from the moment the telkhines showed up that he had barely any chance of surviving this at all, the thought that Percy might actually be dead tore me apart inside.

But I forced myself to my feet, my body still wracked with sobs. If Percy really had given his life for me (I felt another stab of heartbreak at the thought), I wasn't going to let his sacrifice be in vain.

I steadied myself, and continued running through the corridor.

And then he screamed again.

This time, it wasn't a scream of pain, but a scream of raw, primal power, which seem to resound through the foundations of reality itself.

For a brief moment, all I felt was relief. Percy was still alive. Thank the gods.

Then my nostrils were suddenly filled with the scent of the sea, which made no sense at all, given that we were in a volcano.

And then I heard an enormous, resounding, watery crash, like a tsunami slamming into a beach, which made even less sense.

And the volcano exploded.

I turned back to see it filled with white, misty gas, rapidly rocketing skyward. Was that…steam? Where had all of it come from?

I didn't have time to figure out. The tunnel shook violently, and bits of rock fell from the ceiling. Then a pile of rubble collapsed in front of the entrance, cutting me off from the volcano…and from Percy.

"NO!" I screamed, sprinting back towards the entrance.

I grabbed at the pieces of rubble blocking it off, pulling at them, but to no avail. The rocks refused to budge.

"Percy!" I screamed, hoping that somehow he'd be able to hear me through the rock pile. "Percy, please, answer me! Percy, are you there? PERCY!"

The tunnel stopped shaking.

I listened carefully.

Nothing.

"Percy?"

My voice echoed uselessly off the walls of the tunnel.

I fell to the ground again, fresh sobs in my throat, tears stinging my eyes once more.

For a brief moment, my hopes had been raised by the sound of his voice. Even though it was only a distant scream, at least I knew he was still alive. Then the volcano exploded, and my hopes were crushed to the ground. There was no way Percy could have survived that. That was it. He was gone. It was over.

I curled up in a ball against the rubble, sobbing and crying like a little girl.

Percy was dead. He'd given his life to save me.

The aftertaste of his lips still lingered mockingly on mine.

But Percy was dead. I was never going to see him ever again.

I don't know how long I spent there, just lying helplessly against the rocks, shedding miserable tears of despair and anguish, but when I got up, my thoughts were much clearer. Part of me still wished I'd been standing by his side till the very end, that I'd died with him, but most of me realised that Percy hadn't sacrificed himself just to save me. I had a report to deliver to Hephaestus.

And I also realised that, if he'd somehow managed to survive the explosion, he might have landed safely in the water. Though the chances of that occurring were, admittedly, microscopic, at least I knew that he wasn't definitely dead. Just almost definitely.

I sighed heavily. We had a job to do, and Percy had (almost definitely) given his life so that I could succeed. I wasn't going to let him down.

I pulled out the mechanical spider and set it on the ground, flinching as it scurried off into the Labyrinth.

I took a deep breath, and began running after the automaton.

It didn't take long for me to get back to Hephaestus' workshop. The god was working on a bronze hippalektryon that we'd seen on our first visit.

The spider scuttled towards Hephaestus, and starting bonking its head repeatedly against the god's leg.

He bent down to pick it up.

"Visitors again? So soon?" he rumbled, turning around.

His eyes lit up when he saw me, then confusion flickered across his face.

"Wait…weren't there four of you before?"

Fresh tears stung my eyes, but I blinked them back.

"Yes, Lord Hephaestus," I said, trying to keep my voice as steady as possible.

He furrowed his brow. "So, the others…"

It was difficult to hold back my tears as I explained what had happened after he sent us on to the forge. His entire beard caught fire and his eyes turned black as cinders when I mentioned the telkhines, and he looked puzzled and stroked his beard when I mentioned the explosion. My chest hurt from the effort it took to stop myself from crying as I described Percy's (highly probable) death.

"Hmm…the lad's the son of Poseidon, is he?"

"Yes, sir."

"He might have drawn on his father's nature. Summoned the power of the ocean from within. That would explain the explosion, and the steam."

"Is he alright?" I blurted out. I'd been holding in that question from the moment I met the god.

I immediately felt embarrassed. I was worried that I was making how much I liked Percy a little too obvious. But apparently the god wasn't exaggerating about how poor his interpersonal skills were, because he didn't seem to notice anything.

Hephaestus frowned. "I don't know, my girl."

Although I'd been expecting that answer, my heart still sank when he said it.

"I'll go down to my forge and look around. Try to figure out what happened, and where he is now. But, in the meantime," he disassembled and reassembled the spider with incredible alacrity, "it'd probably be best for you to return to that camp of yours."

Hephaestus set the spider on the ground. I eyed it cautiously, out of instinct.

"Farewell, daughter of Athena. And thank you."

The spider set off, but as I turned to follow it, I couldn't shake the feeling that I had forgotten something important, something I had to ask the god.

But I couldn't put my finger on it, and the spider wasn't waiting for me. I hurried after it before it got out of sight, pushing aside my unease.

It moved at walking speed now, so keeping up with it wasn't so tiring. Hephaestus had been thoughtful enough to wire the spider to lead me through a monster-free path, so my journey was largely uneventful. And, at any rate, I was too tired to think, and too tired to feel. I just zoned out and trudged mindlessly behind the automaton until it stopped in the middle of a dark corridor.

I looked around, and realised where we were.

I felt myself blushing a little. This was the spot where Percy and I had fallen in before the quest started, where we…well, we sort of held hands.

Then I remembered what happened and the pain came surging back again. Tears pricked my eyes once again.

I looked down at the spider. It launched itself in the air, did a quick flip, then scuttled off into the darkness at top speed, each tap of its spindly metallic legs fainter than the last.

I sighed heavily, and felt around the walls for the mark of Daedalus. It wasn't long before my fingers traced the shape of the letter delta.

I pressed against the mark, which glowed blue, and the roof slid open. The skies were orange and purple.

"THEY'RE HERE!" someone screamed.

I blinked. What was he…?

Then I heard the blare of the conch shell, and I realised what was going on.

"THEY'RE COMING!"

"EVERYBODY! TO THE FOREST! NOW! BRING EVERYTHING YOU HAVE!"

"WE'RE UNDER ATTACK!"

"No! Stop! It's alright! It's just me, Annabeth!" I tried to tell them, but there was too much shouting going on up there.

So I waited until the others had quietened down first, all the while thinking how badly they would have been massacred had this been a real invasion.

"Where are they?" someone asked.

"It's just me! Annabeth!" I called.

"Annabeth?" I heard Malcolm, my brother, ask. "Is that you?"

"Yes, it's me!" I shouted.

"What happened to Percy, Grover and Tyson?"

My eyes stung again at the mention of Percy's name.

"I-I'll explain later. Just get me out!"

Four campers pointed arrows down at me, then slowly peered over the edge.

"You're sure there aren't any monsters behind you?" one of them asked.

I scowled at him. "Yes, I'm sure. Now get me out of here!"

Chiron trotted up to the hole. "Annabeth?" he frowned, puzzled, looking down at me. "Where are the others?"

"I…" I felt my eyes growing damp.

Two campers lowered a ladder for me to climb.

I glanced at it, and then looked back at Chiron.

"Can we talk about this in the Big House?"

Chiron nodded gravely.

With a heavy sigh, I climbed the ladder.

In a few minutes, I was sitting with Chiron in the Big House with a cup of hot chocolate. I explained how we met Janus and Hera, Briares and Kampe, Geryon and Eurytion, the Sphinx, and finally, Hephaestus. I explained how Tyson and Grover split off from Percy and me, and how we found out about the telkhines.

My voice began breaking up when I got to the part where I was separated from Percy. I'd been able to appear composed in front of Hephaestus. He was, after all, a god. But not Chiron. I was too close to him. And I'd already been exhausted by the effort of keeping up that appearance while talking to Hephaestus.

"I…We...the telkhines….there were too many of them to fight off…and…and Percy…"

I looked down. Tears dappled my shirt.

Chiron put a comforting hand on my shoulder.

"He distracted them, and told you to flee with your cap?"

I nodded miserably.

"So…so I did that…and….and then…after… after I reached the Labyrinth…I…I heard him scream…"

The awful sound of both Percy's screams echoed in my ears: the scream of agony when the telkhines were burning him, and the scream of…whatever it was that had accompanied the explosion.

The explosion that killed him.

I was barely able to maintain the coherence of my speech.

"And…and then…and then the volcano…f-filled up with steam, and…and…and it…it…"

"Exploded?" Chiron offered.

I promptly dissolved into bitter tears of grief.

Chiron remained silent until I had calmed myself down, which was a good thing, since I really don't think there was anything he could have said to make me feel better. He only gently and wordlessly patted my back until I was able to stop crying.

I sniffled and wiped away my tears when I was finally ready to continue.

"The…the entrance to the volcano collapsed, so…so I used Hephaestus' spider to guide me back to him. He…he told me he would go to the volcano and look for Percy, and…and also mentioned that Percy could have drawn on Poseidon's nature to summon the power of the ocean, which…which would explain the steam and the explosion."

Chrion nodded. "And he mentioned how to find Daedalus, yes?"

I felt the blood drain from my face.

"What?" I asked weakly.

"Lord Hephaestus requested the four of you to investigate his forge, and he promised to tell you in return where Daedalus could be found, yes?"

My mouth fell open. That was what I had forgotten.

"I…"

Oh gods. How could I have been so stupid!?

Chiron's expression turned deathly grave. He knew that I knew the implications as well as he did.

We were not one step closer to finding Daedalus. Percy's sacrifice had been for nothing.

Chiron sighed heavily. "Get some rest, child. We'll talk about this in the morning."

I managed to stay strong until I walked out of the Big House. Then I tore across the camp, back to my cabin, sobbing uncontrollably. I was even more crushed than I had been before.

I threw myself onto my bunk and cried into my pillow.

Great. I'd finally gotten to lead a quest after so long, and I had messed it up beyond belief. Tyson and Grover were off trying to find a god who had been lost for two thousand years. Without Percy, we had no way of contacting Grover, and thus no way of knowing if either of them was even alive. And Zeus knows Tyson and Grover aren't exactly a stellar team. And Percy…he'd lain down his life for me. And how did I repay him? By making his sacrifice completely useless. I was the worst child of Athena ever. I'd lost sight of the greater objective, and had been too preoccupied with trying to find out if Percy was alright to remember to ask Hephaestus to tell us how to find Daedalus, which had been the whole point of the quest. We were back to square one, except that Tyson and Grover were now gone, possibly dead, and Percy, probably dead. And the Titan's forces weren't any further from destroying the camp.

All because of me.

The sudden realisation that either Percy or Grover dying would kill the other because of the empathy link didn't do much to alleviate my guilt.

Percy had saved me so many times before. He'd rescued me from the sirens in the Sea of Monsters, when I was completely in thrall to them. He'd rescued me from myself. He'd single-handedly slain Polyphemus in order to save me from him after he had knocked me out. And, last summer, he'd travelled across the country, facing all kinds of impossible odds to rescue me from the Titan Atlas.

Somehow, he'd always manage to save us both, no matter how dire things looked. But I should've known that one day his luck would run out. One day he would have to choose, me or him. And on that day, he would choose to save me.

As he had done just now.

Tears burned my eyes. Oh gods, how could I have been so blind? I had always been attracted to Percy (like I said, he's good-looking), but I would always brush it off as "just a crush". But we'd gone through so much together. Quests…they brought people close like nothing else. They required you to trust and depend on the other person completely, and put your life in their hands. And it was during a quest, in that sort of life-threatening situation where the fate of the world rests in your hands, that you really got to know a person. That their true character shone through. I hadn't realised it until I'd been forced to admit it earlier today, but I had fallen in love with Perseus Jackson. It was impossible not to after spending so much time so close to him.

We could have had so much more. We could have been so much more.

And now, he had (almost certainly) died for nothing, only discovering how I really felt about him in the last few minutes of his life.

And it was all my fault.

I buried my face in my pillow, tears of guilt and anger soaking into the fabric, as I slowly cried myself to sleep.

The next few days passed in a painful, tearful blur. I barely ate or slept, and cried more than I ever had in my life. I couldn't focus on any of the camp activities, and I spent most of my free time lying on my bunk, out of my mind with worry, sorrow and guilt. I tried to reassure myself by thinking about how there was that tiny chance that he might not have been killed in the blast, but that already-minute probability grew smaller with every passing day.

And then, finally, it happened. I was sprawled on my bed, alone in my cabin, my eyes puffy and red from crying so much. I was staring at the wall, hugging a pillow close to my chest and thinking about Percy, when I heard someone knocking outside.

I didn't respond.

I heard the door creak open, and then I heard the soft clip-clop of Chiron's hooves as the centaur trotted towards me.

He laid a gentle hand on my shoulder.

"Annabeth, my dear…"

"Yes?" I sniffled.

Chiron sighed heavily.

"It's been two weeks, my child. We have not received a sign from Lord Hephaestus, or any of the other gods."

Fresh tears pricked my eyes.

"It is difficult to draw any other conclusion from the evidence," he continued.

Although I wished with all my heart that it wasn't so, I knew Chiron was right.

"I have assembled the rest of the campers."

Slowly, I turned over.

And when I saw what he was holding, my heart shattered like glass.

It was a long silk burial cloth. In my time at camp, I'd seen my fair share of them.

But this was a design that I'd never expected to see, ever.

It was sea-green, with the image of a trident embroidered on it.

The shroud of a son of Poseidon.

Percy's shroud.

Somehow, it had never occurred to me that my best friend, the most powerful demigod I knew, the first son of Poseidon in decades, could actuallydie, just like that. Just like any other demigod.

I wanted to scream at Chiron. I wanted to slice up the shroud. I wanted to refuse to believe that Percy was dead.

But I couldn't. Because I knew he was right. It had been two weeks. And there had been no word on him from anyone at all. The odds of him having survived were vanishingly small.

I dried my eyes and got up. If Percy really was gone, I was going to make sure he got a proper send-off.

It's time to burn a shroud for the son of Poseidon.

Chiron and I stood in the middle of the amphitheatre, next to the fire. I clutched the shroud in my hands, fighting back tears, as Chiron told the rest of the camp about what happened to Percy. But his words were hollow in my ears. My eyes were fixed on the flickering flames. I pictured them consuming the shroud, burning it away completely, leaving nothing behind. And then, against my will, the image of Percy being burnt to death by the telkhines flashed in my head, and I could almost hear that awful scream of his again.

It was like having a sword driven through my chest. I nearly broke down in tears once more, but I managed to maintain my composure.

Then Chiron finished what he had to say, and placed a hand on my shoulder.

I advanced shakily towards the fire, my hands trembling as I set the shroud on it. And, just as I had pictured, the flames engulfed the shroud, and turned it into a magical shower of sparks and smoke.

I watched the smoke rise and dissipate, then looked down at the fire.

The shroud was gone, just like that.

Percy was gone.

The realisation hit me with full force once again.

He was dead. That was it. It was the end. No more last-minute heroics. No more cunning tricks.

It was over.

I wanted so badly to crumple to the ground and bawl my eyes out, but I managed to resist. Barely. Fortunately, I'd cried it out over the past several days, or else I wouldn't have been able to hold back.

I addressed the campers.

"He was probably the bravest friend I've ever had," I managed to say. "He…"

And that was when I saw him, standing at the back of the amphitheatre.

Blood rushed to my face. It was like my heart wanted to explode with anger, relief and joy, all at the same time, but couldn't decide which.

"He's right there!"

Everyone turned, and the crowd went up in a collective gasp.

But the moment the words had left my mouth, I was sprinting through the campers, forcefully shoving people out of the way, my eyes stinging with tears once again. I wasn't sure which I wanted to do more: strangle him to death, or kiss his face off. I just needed to do something to make sure that he was really there. Really alive. Really back.

Chiron got to him first.

"Well," the old centaur sighed, "I don't believe I've ever been happier to see a camper return. But you must tell me—"

I pushed past the last few campers between Percy and me.

There he stood, looking tired, a little confused, and annoying adorable as ever.

"WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN!?" I screamed.

I decided that I'd prefer to kiss the life out of him, but since the entire camp was watching, and he was no longer probably about to die, I settled for throwing my arms around him and squeezing him tight.

And, in that moment, holding Percy against myself, smelling the sea on him, and feeling his heartbeat against my chest, all the worry and pain that had been weighing on me for the past two weeks melted away.

Percy was alive.

Nothing else mattered.

I remember my subconscious noting the other implications of his return. I hadn't messed up the quest as badly as I thought I had. Grover was still alive, at least, and we now had some way of contacting him. He might even have encountered Hephaestus and found out how to locate Daedalus.

But I swept aside all of these other concerns. All I cared about was the fact that Percy was safe.

I didn't let go of him until I realised that everyone else was silently staring at us.

"I—we thought you were dead, Seaweed Brain!" I said, my heart filled to bursting with relief.

"I'm sorry," Percy said. "I got lost."

He looked so cute and innocent saying it. But he still managed to change all that relief into anger.

"LOST?" I yelled. "Two weeks, Percy? Where in the world—"

"Annabeth," Chiron interrupted. "Perhaps we should discuss this somewhere more private, shall we? The rest of you, back to your normal activities!"

Before either of us could say anything, he picked Percy and me up, slung us on his back, and galloped off towards the Big House.

Percy's explanation essentially vindicated Hephaestus' theory. He'd used his innate oceanic nature to create the explosion, which had thrown him out of the volcano.

"Luckily, I landed in the water. Then I got marooned on an island, until Hephaestus found me and told me I could leave. A magic raft carried me back to camp," Percy told us.

I gazed at Percy. Something nagged at me from the back of my mind, something about how it didn't make sense for the son of Poseidon to be marooned, and something about magical phantom islands, but at the moment I was still far too relieved that Percy was back to be concerned about tiny matters like that.

"You've been gone two weeks," I said, my voice steadier and more composed than it had been ever since the explosion. "When I heard the explosion, I thought—"

"I know," he said. "I'm sorry. But I figured out how to get through the Labyrinth. I talked to Hephaestus."

My eyes lit up, and I felt a surge of relief. Percy had gotten the information from Hephaestus. Our adventure wasn't completely pointless.

"He told you the answer?"

"Well, he sort of told me that I already knew. And I do. I understand now."

Percy explained his idea: that mortals who could see through the Mist could also see paths in the Labyrinth. And that, therefore, we should recruit that girl from his school, Rachel, and use her as our guide through the Labyrinth.

My mouth fell open. "Percy, that's crazy!"

Chiron leaned back in his wheelchair and stroked his beard. "There is precedent, however. Theseus had the help of Ariadne. Harriet Tubman, daughter of Hermes, used many mortals on her Underground Railroad for just this reason."

To be honest, the more I thought about it, the more likely a hypothesis it sounded. But I was not anxious to meet Rachel again, because…alright, I'll admit it – I was a little jealous. Percy and I may not have been a couple, and I wasn't sure enough about my feelings to know if I wanted to pursue a relationship with him, but I was definitely in love with him. This whole demigod business was something that Percy shared only with me. It was our little secret, the thing that had allowed us to meet, the thing that would bring us closer together every summer. It was bad enough that he'd let another girl – a cute one at that – in on our secret. And now he wanted her to come along with us on a quest, and let her in on even more of those things that we only shared between the two of us. And Rachel's excessive friendliness with him didn't exactly ease my discomfort.

To make matters worse, I realised what had been bothering me about Percy's account. I remembered one of the stories Chiron had told me, about Calypso, the daughter of Atlas, and her magical island of Ogygia. Was that where he'd been "lost" for the past two weeks? Had he been "marooned" there by an attraction to Calypso?

I didn't want to take any chances. I may have been unsure about my feelings, but I was certain that I loved him far too much to risk him slipping away. If Calypso could divert him like that, I didn't want to find out what Rachel could do.

"But this is my quest," I tried to protest. "I need to lead it."

Chiron looked uncomfortable. "My dear, it is your quest. But you need help."

"And this is supposed to help? Please! It's wrong. It's cowardly. It's—"

"Hard to admit we need a mortal's help," Percy said. "But it's true."

I glared at him. Have I mentioned how much I hate it when he's right?

"You are the single most annoying person I have ever met!"

And, with that, I stormed out of the room, my emotions simmering inside me once more.

Funny how I'd gone from being worried sick about having lost him, to nearly overflowing with joy and relief at having found him again, back to being worried about losing him, but in a different way, in the span of less than half an hour.


	6. Luke and the doors of Judgement

Luke Castellan looked down at his hands and wanted, for a moment, to cry. They were transparent. He was dead. He looked around. He was in a waiting room, and he wasn't the only one. There were other souls here, too. The place was well-lit, with plenty of space and there were…golden vinyl records on the walls? The waiting room for Hades was a record shop. Apparently pop music really did come from Hell, he mused to himself. He caught sight of a painted window with writing on the outside, but apparently dyslexia did not go away when you died and there was no way he could read English writing from the wrong side of the window. The words were, to make a very bad joke, all Greek to him.

He felt something in his pockets, though. He had pockets. He looked down at himself and realized he was wearing an orange Camp Half-Blood tee shirt and jeans.

"I never thought I'd wear one of these again," he sighed, touching it ruefully. "I am such an idiot."

"Mmm…a mortal that admits it, finally," said a voice. Luke looked up and shivered in a bit of fear. Before him, real as a nightmare, stood a man with white-blond hair and an Italian suit that bore the nametag "Charon" on the lapel. He was meeting the ferryman of Hades.

But as Luke gazed at Charon, his fear dropped away without anymore coaching. Apparently, being dead, he didn't need to fear death, or its attendants. Instead he quietly said, "I need passage to the Underworld."

Charon whipped off his sunglasses and Luke realized he had empty eye sockets, like Ares. But his eyelids were narrowed over the empty spots. It took a minute for Luke to identify this expression as suspicion.

"Spell my name," Charon demanded.

"C-H-A-R-O-N," Luke replied, reading it off his nametag. "Hey! My dyslexia…wait. Why can't I read the window, then?"

"The window is for the mortals," Charon answered, putting his shades back on. "I am for the dead. Which you definitely are. You'll have to forgive me. Most of you show up and start bargaining with me to not be dead. As if I can fix that. The last three people to ask me for passage without hesitating were all alive. And they caused a lot of trouble, too. I thought you might be another demigod."

Luke looked at the floor. "I used to be. I guess I'm not anything anymore."

"Do you have your fare?" Charon asked.

"I…" Luke trailed off, wondering vaguely if he did have his fare. He'd been a dead man either way by the time Kronos arrived in Olympus, but Kronos hadn't exactly been concerned about his fate. And who else was going to give him anything to pay the boatman?

"He does," a new voice announced. Luke froze. He knew that voice. He turned and watched in astonishment as the door to the record shop closed behind the last person he ever thought to see again in all of eternity. Hermes, the messenger of the gods, walked up and looked at him with a kind but very sad look on his elfin face. "Check your pocket, Luke."

Luke blinked in surprise, but put a hand into his pocket and fished out two gold drachmas. He stared at the coins in astonishment.

"And you're here because…?" Charon demanded.

"I'm here to escort my son to the Underworld," Hermes snapped at Charon.

Charon glared at Hermes but shrugged. "Whatever. Get in, the both of you." Luke gave Charon his fare and the two of them followed him into an elevator, crowded with other newly dead spirits. Charon pushed the button and they began their descent.

Luke kept looking over at Hermes, trying to be sure he was really there. Hermes caught him on the third or fourth glance and gave him that sad look again.

"You…" Luke searched for the right words, but discovered himself asking the stupidest question possible. "Why are you so sad?"

"You're my son, Luke, and you died. Parents are supposed to be sad when their children die," Hermes answered quietly.

"You can't possibly be sad over me," Luke answered. "After everything I did. To your other children, even. I… I…" He looked away, struggling not to cry.

"Oh, Luke," Hermes sighed. "Of course I am. I never loved you any less, no matter what you did. I know I wasn't the father you needed, and I am so sorry for that."

Luke looked at him in shock. He tried several times to say something, but all that ended up coming out was a very choked, "Dad." And since he was dead and it didn't matter anymore, he gave into his lifelong wish and threw his arms around his father's neck and wept. And Hermes wrapped his arms around him, and was weeping, too, and it just made Luke cry even harder. All the times he'd been afraid or lonely or sad or tired and desperately wished his father could be there for him the way that other kids had theirs. And now that he could finally do this, it felt like it was too late. Why couldn't he have ever done this when he was alive?

He felt the elevator rocking and looked up and realized that he wasn't in an elevator anymore, he was in a boat. Over his tee-shirt and jeans, he was wearing a gray, hooded robe. All the other spirits were wearing them, too. Charon was wearing a black one, as was—to his shock—Hermes.

"Dad?" Luke asked curiously, tugging at his father's robe.

"Hermes Psychopompos," the Olympian shrugged. "The black robes are worn by those of us who work in the Underworld. I do this, too, sometimes."

Conveyor of souls, Luke translated in his head. "You come with people all this way?"

"No," Hermes replied with a sigh. "I help people who don't know the way get to D.O.A. Records. Or at least, I used to. Thanatos does most of that now, although I still help when he needs it."

"But I was already there," Luke said quietly.

Hermes looked at Luke for a long moment, and then asked in a very quiet voice, "Do you want me to leave?"

"No." There was no firmer tone Luke could speak in.

Hermes nodded, wrapped his arm around Luke's shoulders, and the two of them looked ahead as the boat continued on its way across the Styx.

Finally Charon brought them up to a beach of black sand littered with enormous boulders here and there. Luke and Hermes, along with the other newly dead souls, got out. Luke watched as Charon pushed the barge back out into the river, before he turned and followed the crowd of spirits up a path, away from the great dark beach.

It was a short walk before they arrived before the enormous archway into Erebus. Cerberus stood over the crowd, but Luke found him oddly unremarkable. Luke briefly considered going to the EZ DEATH line, but he didn't think he could live with himself (or however that phrase was meant to go now) if he always wondered if he could have gone to Elysium instead.

Hermes joined him, standing silently beside him in his black robe, a comforting presence in the face of a judgement that, Luke had to admit, might not go the way that Annabeth had thought it would.

Annabeth.

"Annabeth and Thalia," he said, turning to Hermes. "Are they…?" He broke off, not knowing what he wanted to ask if they were.

"Thalia is with the Hunters as Artemis' lieutenant," Hermes told him. "She's very happy, and very capable. Annabeth is dating Percy Jackson. I think she's happy, too."

"Good," Luke said, nodding. "And Connor and Travis? And—"

"Luke," Hermes said quietly. "Connor and Travis are fine, but sooner or later you'll ask me about someone who is not. Do you really want that list twice?"

"Twice?"

"The Judges are given a reckoning of your life to make their judgements. You are given a copy of it, in the event you feel the need to make a defense." The look on the god's face was now shuttered. Luke had never seen him look so distant. But, paradoxically, he also laid a hand on Luke's shoulder. Luke nodded, and turned his face forward again, to the black pavilion where he would find out his fate.

They waited in line for a long, long time. But just as Luke was at last the next case on the docket, a voice behind them cried, "Make a path there!"

Luke and Hermes turned and coming down a path that he hadn't noticed before, escorted by Thanatos, Hypnos, all three furies, several hellhounds, and at least twelve black-robed security ghouls was none other than Kronos himself.

He was wearing his own body now, and Luke finally found out what Kronos looked like when he wasn't borrowing Luke's face. The Titan lord was dark haired, dark eyed, and… Well, Luke hated to admit it to himself, but he could see where the Big Three got their looks from. They did look a bit like their father.

Luke looked forward again to see one of the Big Three actually coming into the court. Hades had come out to greet Kronos. Hades caught sight of Hermes, standing next to Luke, and then he noticed Luke. Hades narrowed his eyes thoughtfully, but apparently wasn't interested in speaking to him.

"Hermes," Hades said quietly.

"Hades," Hermes answered. "I see you found him, then."

Hades gave Hermes a tight smile at that. "Yes and no. His essence was scattered, but given the way he died this time, I guessed that some of it was going to come back together soon."

At this point, it occurred to Luke to wonder how much time had passed in the mortal world, because it didn't sound like they were talking about Kronos dying yesterday. Then he found that he didn't care. Somehow, mortal life just didn't seem like a big deal anymore.

"When enough of it came together for him to form a body, we caught up with him." Hades smirked at his cleverness, but only briefly. "Unfortunately, he'll keep bringing his own essence in until he's back to full strength again. It will take a very long time, but…he's not finished for good, it seems. Daedalus has devised a way to ensure that he fully reconstitutes down here, where we can keep an eye on him."

Hermes nodded. "Good."

"Hello, my son," Kronos said, cutting across their conference in an angry voice. "And hello to you, Luke. I see you made it at last. And risking judgement, too."

Hermes' hand squeezed Luke's shoulder for a brief moment, and Luke felt the claw that had seized his heart at Kronos' words loosen. "Do not speak to the spirit," Hades snapped. Luke blinked in astonishment as he realized that Hades was talking about him. "He is dead and no longer in your service. Your fate is fixed. It's back to Tartarus with you. I'm taking you there myself. I've had Daedalus working overtime on this one."

Hypnos and Thanatos led the odd little cavalcade past where Luke stood and through the court. Hades led them off, towards the Luke turned to Hermes. "Hades defended me against Kronos. Why would he do that?"

"He is lord of the Underworld. You are one of his subjects. That is his job," Hermes answered quietly.

"I am an idiot," Luke said quietly. "I'm so blind. You weren't ignoring me."

"Never," Hermes said.

Luke started to wish he hadn't said that, but realized that the alternative would be infinitely worse, and so he just nodded.

"Luke Castellan!" called a security ghoul in the court.

Luke and Hermes entered the black tent, and turned to face the judges. They sat on folding chairs with cushions on them, behind a table with folding legs. Beside each of them was a stack of manila folders. Every so often a new folder would poof into existence on the bottom of the stack. Luke guessed that was when a new spirit entered the line. A fourth stack stood on the side of the table, where the security ghoul that had called his name had been standing. That ghoul now handed him the folder that had his name printed in neat Greek letters on the tab.

With trembling transparent hands, Luke opened the folder. There in front of him, summarized in neat bullet points on one page, was his life. His desperate times on the run with Annabeth and Thalia, his life at camp, his life with the Titans, and his death on Olympus. He had to admit, seeing it all laid out so neatly and compactly was very lowering.

He looked up to the judges and recognized Rhadamanthys and Socrates. The other looked familiar, but it took him a bit to place him, as he didn't often see pictures of Thomas Jefferson looking so young. Or modern. All three of them were wearing black suits, and looked to be in their mid-thirties.

He looked up at Hermes curiously. Hermes shook his head. "The judges are not answerable to me. Hades himself cannot countermand them outright. I can be with you for the trial, but I may not participate in any way."

At Hermes' voice, Rhadamanthys looked up. "We do not often see you here, Psychopompos. What is your business with this spirit?"

"He is my son," Hermes said.

"Very well then, to business," Socrates said. "A difficult case, this one."

"He has betrayed his father, his siblings, his friends, his camp, Olympus, and Western Civilization itself," Jefferson said. "In fact, in his entire life, there is a grand total of one person who he did not betray, and that tie was not important enough for him not to proceed with actions he knew would threaten her life anyway." Jefferson looked up and speared Luke with his gaze. "On the whole, a rather thorough muddle of things."

"But he did die a hero, and is ultimately responsible for saving her life, Olympus and Western civilization," Socrates said, although it didn't sound like he was countering Jefferson's observation, so much as adding to it. "That can not be ignored."

"And Kronos was hardly a caring guardian," Rhadamanthys agreed. "By the time of this spirit's death, he must have seemed much worse compared to whatever he held the Olympians accountable for. Some element of self-serving was likely involved in that decision."

Luke didn't like what he was hearing. This wasn't going well.

"A difficult case indeed. Does the spirit have a defense to make?" Socrates asked.

The three judges looked up and Luke felt tiny under their eyes. Hermes stood quietly beside him and said nothing. Luke shook his head quietly. "No. Nothing. Everything you've said is true. In fact, you've left out the part about my responsibility in the deaths of…" Luke consulted his folder. "Lee Fletcher, Michael Yew, and Charles Beckendorf…among others."

Hermes laid a hand on Luke's back, between his shoulder blades.

"Repentance, then," Jefferson mused. "That is not nothing."

"Indeed, it is quite remarkable, given that some spirits do not learn repentance even after years by the banks of Cocytus," Socrates said. "However…quite grave indeed, these crimes."

Rhadamanthys sat back in his chair, studying Luke's folder. Then he and the other two judges began a quiet conference that lasted several minutes. Finally, they turned to Luke.

"Such a list of crimes as these is very serious," Socrates said, "but the fact that you understand this and make no defense for actions you know are wrong coupled with the fact that you did indeed die saving Olympus is quite impressive. In our judgement, you are not suited for Elysium."

Luke's heart tumbled into his sneakers. Tartarus, then.

"However, eternal punishment strikes us as inappropriate as well," Socrates continued. "Therefore, we are going to require that you make remuneration."

"What?" Luke asked in shock.

"In the parlance mortals nowadays have the effrontery to call English," Jefferson informed him, "we're going to make you fix what you broke."

"But I…can't," Luke protested. "Lee, Michael, Charles, Silena…they're dead. There's nothing to be done to bring them back. Because of me."

"True," Jefferson agreed, "and it is good that you understand this. You are also cognizant of the fact that saving Olympus does not make up for the fact that Olympus was only in danger in the first place because of your actions."

"Therefore, you will be sent to Tartarus," Rhadamanthys said, and both Luke and Hermes gasped in dismay.

"Where you will stand guard over Kronos and the other high security prisoners," Rhadamanthys continued, and relief so powerful filled Luke that he could've sworn he felt his heart actually beat just once more. "You will do this until such time as Kronos is completely reconstituted and Daedalus determines him to be secured. At that point you will be given a choice to remain in the service of Lord Hades or to drink from the River Lethe and try again."

"The case is adjourned," the security ghoul said.

Luke felt a change sweep over him. He looked down to discover that he was wearing black robes himself, now, and he looked more…solid. Less dead.

"Dad?"

"You're a guardian of Tartarus, now, Luke," Hermes said. "That means you work for the Underworld. Black robes, solid body, you're on the clock now."

Luke nodded. He looked up at Hermes and realized that this was the last they would see of one another for some time. He reached up and gave his father a hug. Hermes put his arms around him and hugged him tightly back.

"I love you, Luke," Hermes whispered.

"I love you, too, Dad," Luke replied.

Hermes released him and Luke turned. Two security ghouls were waiting and he walked over to join them. They started down the path to Tartarus, lined with more security ghouls, but realizing something, Luke turned back and looked at Hermes, who stood there in his black robes, watching his son start off for his new job.

"You may not return," one of the ghouls said to him.

"I'm not trying to," Luke assured him. He met Hermes' eyes and an understanding passed between them. Hermes gave him an odd smile and then began to glow. Luke didn't turn his eyes away, though, since he was no longer mortal and seeing a god's true form could not hurt him anymore.

And then Hermes was gone, and Luke was alone in the dark with his guards and his job. He turned back to Tartarus, to the screams of the damned and the fiery Phlegethon, and followed them quietly down to his assignment in Hell.


End file.
